Deeper into the Crevasse

Now, back to our regularly scheduled programing…

I sat on my recent post on second-time motherhood for over a month. I was afraid to post it. Yet, I couldn’t seem to write about anything else until I did. So Sunday night, I just closed my eyes and hit “publish”.

The truth is, for whatever reason, I’m phobic of appearing weak or stupid or lesser than. Not that I think having a tough time with motherhood makes one “weak” or “stupid”. Let’s face it. Raising kids IS tough and anyone who says otherwise, including my extended family, is also phobic.

If someone else had broken down and expelled the previous rant to me, I  certainly wouldn’t have thought less of them. I would have happily listened for as long as it took to make them feel better. I have no idea why I  felt  as if I was imposing by doing the same. It’s silly. I know.

I soaked in all of your words of encouragement yesterday and today. In other words, THANK YOU!

There are times when I feel fine. You could even say HAPPY and resolved to keep moving forward, knowing that life as it is at this very moment is temporary. Fleeting. Any moment, I could blink and my children will be all grown up.

I  wake up, embrace the fact that nothing will be accomplished here today, and simply carry on with other plans. I pack a lunch, head to the park with the kids, maybe even stop by story time or Target on my way. It’s not like I have to rush home to put anyone to bed… Ppfff

Then, there’s the rest of time… the dark moments when I feel trapped, alone, crushed….

Days like yesterday when Mr. D left for work before I could shower and get ready. I was still in my pajamas at four in the afternoon when he called to say that he’ll be going back to working weekends and late nights by the end of the week.

It’s these dark moments which consume me whole.

I should take a moment and recognize Mr. D in all this. My husband is amazing. He comes home never knowing which wife will be there to greet him– the surly, weepy, stabby one or the breezy, happy, funny one.

(Mostly, it’s the ranty one. Never the sultry, “I drugged the kids so they’d sleep through the night” *wink, wink* one.)

He  frequently gets up with Lou at night and tries to give me a “break” as often as possible, but lately he’s been losing it too.

The other day, I found half a load of laundry in the dryer… and no, I don’t mean he didn’t wash a full load. I mean, I opened the washer to find the OTHER HALF of the laundry still damp, possibly moldy.

A few days before, I reached to put a dirty diaper in the pail, only to find that the pail had been relocated next to the front door- – still full of stinky…

Mr. D had moved it there, possibly intending to empty it on his way out the door or maybe, it was an elaborate hint that I should empty it. Who knows? It was just one of the many comical little aggravations in my day that makes me feel more like “ringleader” than “wife and mother”.

I can laugh about it because I know exactly what happened. It’s the same thing that happens to me multiple times daily. I’ll be rushing to finish something. Someone will scream and it’s crisis diverted…

I can laugh about it  because I’m not being completely overwhelmed by it right now.

Over the past month, I’ve made a few changes to make things easier to bear. I hired a cleaning service.  I’ve been trying to overcome my deep-seated trust issues and hire a baby-sitter, too. I gave up on family dinners and afternoon naps. Opting instead to feed the kids earlier (as if Lou could be kept waiting) and put them to bed earlier.

And the biggest and best-est change of all… Mr. D finished his project and went back to normal work hours.

Well, that one lasted about two weeks.

Now, with long nights and zero weekENDS ahead,  I feel like I’m slipping deeper into the crevasse.

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