It was about two weeks ago. I left the house in a rush yelling to my husband as the door shuts “i don’t even know if i believe in vaccination, but I’m going to go shoot up our kid with bacteria and fungus now.” (No. This is not a post about vaccination, asshole).
It was about two weeks ago and I was feeling like I was going to pop. I have a tendency to bottle things up and then I pop. It’s not like I try to do this, it’s a habit. Years of “letting things go” instead of speaking my mind. (I know what you are thinking… you mean, you don’t speak your mind all the time?!) Yes, this Scorpio, for whatever reason, lashes out at people instead of taking a step back and breathing and calmly evaluating. It comes and goes with me and I’m sure everyone feels this way from time to time. I mean, I’d hope so being we are all human.
On the way to the stupid appointment, my song, “Canon in D,” comes on the radio. I listened and it calms me down, but I also simultaneously gave myself the pep talk. (You know, the one where you are like “Ok, Caren, don’t lose your shit at the pediatrician office. They deal with annoying, sick kids during flu season. Take a deep breath.”) The appointment comes and goes, she’s got her dose of whatever the hell I’ve signed up for, and I can leave.
I come in the house, somewhat more calm. The baby stays asleep and I just stood there. I stood there at the kitchen counter uncontrollably crying. Crying all over my notebook of what I lovingly call “idiot notes” (this is my un-glorified word for daily, weekly to-do lists and budgets, grocery lists etc). My husband is making lunch and getting this and that together while I simultaneously want him to hug me and make me better and also not notice me as I sob.
He stops. He notices and puts his arm around me. It’s one of those “I don’t even know why I’m crying” moments because I’m crying about everything. (Usually these breakdowns happen when I’m pregnant. Spoiler: I’m not. Ok, so there’s no excuse except Life).
Why is life so effing amazing and so effing dumb and mind-numbing?
I tell him I’m overwhelmed:
I keep losing my shit with our four year old and it feels terrible. If mother guilt could kill, it would be a race of father’s raising children.
I worry about my daughter and that I don’t do enough engaging crap with my baby.
I’m tired of having a baby attached to me because she hates most people, doesn’t take a bottle and isn’t all that interested in food, but apparently she’s obsessed with me.
I’m navigating through trying to contribute to my family with something I love, but, boy is it hard to balance while wearing a momma hat.
I’m nauseated with seeing people’s posed plastic lives plastered everywhere and it makes me ill to think that I’m contributing to such a lie if mine looks perfect.
My husband is working his tail off (who said it was a good idea for both partners to start their own businesses at the same time and have another baby?!) and there’s really not a whole lot I can do to help.
I can’t stand when the house is disorganized because I find it hard to concentrate on any task or being present with my kids.
And sometimes just losing my shit in tears is the answer.
And of course it helps to have someone there to give you a hug and a tissue for your snotty-ass nose and mascara covered face. (Water-proof, Caren, water proof!!)
I know, the above sounds like I’m some sort of freak of nature, right? But, seriously, it’s like I let all this random crap build up and then, when I’m not expecting it, I have a tipping point (in this case, vaccinating my child). And, at the end of the day, life just is. And it always will be. There’s always going to be decisions for your family that seem impossible to ‘do the right thing’ and I will likely continue to get frustrated with life’s uncertainty, but what’s the answer? It’s to do your flippin best and keep going. To lose it when you need to cry and then keep going. It’s almost as if as soon as it’s released, nothing seems that bad or insurmountable after that.
And two weeks later, I’ve altered my energy.
I’ve kept my cool with the 4 year old and actually we’ve had mostly good days. I find when I just give her 20-30 minutes of undivided attention here and there in the day it benefits both of us.
My daughter is going to be who she is and I can’t change that, I can only embrace and cultivate her little self.
Even if all I want sometimes is a quiet, uninterrupted shower, the baby won’t be a baby that long.
I’m going to do business when I can, the best I can. And overall, it’s actually going well.
I pay less attention to plastic on social media. Because, well, it’s plastic… so are all the holiday cards that we all send out (us included), but I enjoy this plastic for some reason (maybe because it’s once a year!)
I’m working on empathy because I suck at it. Things are always better when my spouse and I talk more.
The house. Well, this is my own mental challenge… different standards of clean and organized, an old house, a 4 year old and a baby, my sewing business and the holidays coming up…this one might have to wait until 2016 when we re-organize and take down the decor!
Until then, I’m going to breathe more and remind myself life can just be a big bitch…