Sometimes, after a day like this one, after a week last the last one, after a month like the one past I need to remember to go back and listen to this link in an old post as a reminder. What I am doing matters. And I'm doing the best I can. I listen to this once, and it just brings me back to my reality. It is up to me to define my life.
I sit and stare at it. It greets me every morning at 6:00 am. Line upon line upon line of emails. Red exclamation points next to half of them to let me know “look at ME first. I’m important. Reply to ME.” I clean it out daily, hourly at times, but it keeps on going. Adding up to make me feel like I’m drowning in questions that needs answering. How long can I take paternity leave? What if I don’t want to turn in paperwork? What if I’m sick? When do I get paid? I don’t want to answer their questions. There is a little girl at home who is getting too big and growing up too fast and I cannot stand the hours I’m away from her during the day. Reply. Forward. Attach. Repeat. Snooze the Outlook Calendar reminders that pop up endlessly, do this, do that, do it now… you’ve been snoozing this reminder for 3 days now. Work hard, work long and someday it will pay off. I swear that should be the theme song, and, quite frankly, I don't know if I believe it anymore. Maybe this is just momentary stress during a transitional time at work, but its really taking me through the wringer this time...
I ask myself, why do I do this? The answer is simple really. It pays the mortgage, it pays the bills, it pays for food. People have told me-- if you really want things to work you make them work. We gave up our house, they say, moved to an apartment, take the bus everywhere, collect foodstamps…but I’m home with them, the children. You can make it work if you really want to, you’re just selfish. Perhaps. Or Perhaps that is not me. I am the nurturer, the mommy, but also the main provider. I can’t just throw it all away. We have worked hard for our little house, my extremely safe car (you wouldn’t believe the amount of hours…er days… that went into researching car safety), our quiet neighborhood, our providing for ourselves and others in our family who need help. Of course, I could quit my job and stay at home. It would only be a matter of time before we wouldn’t be able to make the house payments anymore, just one month with us having to pay practically a mortgage payment for our sick dog like last month and we’d be done for. We could sell the car, eat cheaper, processed foods. Sure, it could work. Instead of stressing about work I could stress about money. It’s trading one evil for another. Would the payoff be greater than the sacrifice? Possibly. Although, to play devil’s advocate, my girl is happy, well-adjusted and wonderful. I don’t worry about her. In all honesty it’s me I’m starting to worry about.
What wonder is, is there a happy medium somewhere? Somewhere else perhaps? The thought is scary, but at what point it is too much? At what point do I decide that my own quality if life is, in fact, important? That is what I’ve been wondering lately. The what else-s and what if-s are getting to me.
I’ll be back to regular writing soon. I’m in a funk and can’t seem to extract myself. Do you forgive a girl who is just trying to stay above water here? There is so much going on and I have so much to tell you...I promise if you stick around that you'll be glad you did.
How do you deal with whatever stresses you? Let me know.
“For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.”
...someone, anyone...please tell me this gets easier? This is worse than when I went back to work when she was 4 months old. I know, I know -- its just an adjustment and a lot of change for a baby but... its hard when she seems to want anyone but me. Not to mention it's also hard when she acts like I'm trying to murder her when I try to feed her. It was a rough night.
On that note, I was never the type that wanted to keep breastfeeding past a year. Hell, I'm shocked I made it a year (believe me, its been a challenge but that is another story for another day). But now its past a year it breaks my heart just a little bit knowing that fairly soon she'll be ready to be done and that there will be one last time to share that bond. I dwell on that one. last. time. I see it coming it makes me tear up a little thinking about it. Of course there is many, many more fun and exciting times that the future holds, but there is no denying that there's something special between mother and child during those moments and to see the end of those times is, well, a little sad.
::sigh::
Someone out there, please tell me that she'll start acting like she needs or wants her mama again soon?
“Growing up is never easy. You hold on to things that were. You wonder what's to come. But that night, I think we knew it was time to let go of what had been, and look ahead to what would be. Other days. New days. Days to come. The thing is, we didn't have to hate each other for getting older. We just had to forgive ourselves... for growing up.”
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