| Whatever Floats your Rubber Ducky Pt.2 |
So at what point do you have to just agree to disagree on how much a person can take care of another set of people (or just one or the other I suppose) and not take care of herself? Or at what point does she sacrifice all the superficial things, the cosmetic aspects of life (her home being in order every day, cooking a home cooked meal each night, decorating for holidays, doing personal errands for herself with the exclusion of household chore related ones, etc.) with the understanding that it will effect the relationship she has with her partner because they have a little less understanding of what all goes into a day in the life of a Mommy?
For once I'd like to know where it is written that men, Dad's in general even, get off at coming home and saying, "Well what did you do all day?" or "Why are there toys all over the floor?" and why they expect that you'll drop everything, which includes doing the dishes or cleaning a counter or highchair try to pour them a drink or plate their dinner when they come home late and miss the actual mealtime, and you should be accepting of it with a quick "Thanks babe!" and a pat on the ass?
I seriously have moments where I snap, and to the point where it was a topic at my last annual check up to make sure it wasn't a hormonal embalance. Why is it that we think that we are the problem or something is wrong with us that we can't be 100% Woman/Mom/Housekeeper/Socialite/Lover/Nurse/Chauffer/etc. or that we can't be happy with our relationships or with our life 100% of the time? Why is it that when we voice our unhappiness or our question of our lives we're told to either:
"Well, get a job if you're unhappy because you don't interact with adults anymore."
"You complain about our son/daughter so much I can't believe you'd ever want more children!"
"I'm tired! I have a job!"
It's to the point where I don't even miss the sex so much anymore as I miss the intimacy, the tingles of the holding hands or hugging in public and having a hand on your thigh while driving in the car. I am OCD about counting how many times I get kissed a day, and how many were either "good-bye/hello/goodnight" category kisses. Where is the jumping off point? Where is it that you realize that you can either be okay with how it is and just be roommates with common bonds or you can get separated and take your chances that the feelings will renew themselves? Why can't you find a balance between (and a partner who understands your need for this) a woman and a wife and a mother?
I suppose it's a personal question that every S@HM or even every Mom in general thinks about and asks herself from time to time. What do you have to do to make yourself at peace with your day to day life. What's going to float your inner rubber ducky. |
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| Whatever Floats Your Rubber Ducky. PT. 1 |
I think many stay at home Moms feel this way, and I don't know if it's justified as just being a very sensitive person or what but we definately need to just be sensitive to the issue (not overly) and not guilt ridden.
Many a times throughout the week I feel like I am not giving my undivided 100% towards my family. I feel like the laundry just gets finished when it piles back up again, the dishes are never 100% washed up, and there's always a spill of juice/ground up goldfish or pretzels to be swept up in the living room, or that I have to wait until someone comes home or falls asleep so that I can turn on the vacuum without a major meltdown. I feel like all day I cater to someone else's schedule of nap or no naps today, diaper changes, snacks, and whatever time is left over around those tasks is usually spent cleaning up where toys are now all over the floor, doing bills, answering the phone, getting the mail, and possibly taking a bath for myself so I don't look hideous later. I feel guilty for leaving him in the playpen for longer than 15 or 20 minutes, but at the same time I feel like I'll blow a fuse if he continues to find a way to climb onto the couch and let me stay prisoner in the room making sure he doesn't get back up there and if he does that he doesn't fall off and hit his head or something. The most frantic thing in the world is to hear a "booboo" cry and be in the next room making yourself a sandwich.
I suppose my guilt from not getting everything accomplished, and then being too tired to stay up at night (or just wanting some time to myself in those p.m. hours) compounds with the fact that I can't do everything that my husband wants me to do. It's not that I don't try to please him in every way possible when it comes to doing errands for him or promising to do something and then dropping everything in the world to work around that simple task. I feel resentful at times that he doesn't understand that I need more than an hours notice in order to go somewhere if he needs something. He doesn't get that I must feed, change a diaper, fix myself up out of my pj pants, and then allow driving time, in order for me to go somewhere without a fussy toddler. Why is it that no matter how many times you explain that it is a a luxary to be able to go to the grocery store by yourself because you can actually focus on your budget, use a calculator and follow your list (and not lose it in the process) when you're not spending 10 minutes unstrapping a carseat, finding a buggy that's clean and has a working safety belt, and then going through the entire store in one swoop because someone gets fussy in the buggy after a while. Or even how when he's driving to work it's still 30 minutes that he has by himself that he can just sit and listen to quiet if he wants to, which oftentimes is not something I get for a few days.
Today started off bad. We're on midnight schedule now, and although I live a stones throw from my grandmother's house, I still don't like being here alone all night. I just like someone in the house with me, aside from our son. I can't sleep. Every bump, noise, neighbor, etc. just makes me wake up from my sleep and usually I can't fall asleep straight away either. I nearly fell asleep in the chair last night around 8 p.m. while we were all watching t.v. before it was time for him to get ready to leave, but when he left and Kyan finally went back down to sleep, I was wracking my brain and trying to get it to stop processing.
I knew that Jared had a meeting today to talk about what he needs to do to finish up a degree with the local college. I knew it was at around 2-ish, but I wasn't certain, and I knew that at first he had wanted us to go with him and run errands while he had his meeting. I like for him to call me when he's coming home so I can go unlock the screen door since there is no key for it. When he calls he tells me that he's tired and I need to go to the meeting with him. I agree because I'm half asleep and because I figure he needs me to do so. It's four hours before we would need a babysitter but my Mom's always willing so that's not going to be a problem. He comes home and we all sleep in until after noon. From the moment I woke up there is a fog of agressive annoyance hanging in our room, which has now invaded every room in our home and turned into a blanket of annoyance and resentment between us both.
It's not that I didn't want to go, but I see other things that need to be done, and I'm exhausted. I spend all day letting him nap, eat lunch, sleep, complain he can't sleep well, keep the house quiet for him, and then let him get up and spend a few hours with us and then leave. Asking him to give Kyan a bath last night had me nervous because I knew that when I had asked earlier in the day it wasn't a issue but now it would be since the time to give said bath was approaching. He was upset because he didn't have time to shower and give Ky a bath. I said I'd do it, and was quickly removed and replaced as he huffed that he would do it cause he said he would blah blah blah. I guess my "I change all the diapers and feed him all day, you can do one thing for me please" rational is just not a shared sentiment. |
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| When Lovie's Lost... |
We had an unfortunate accident in Walmart tonight. Last week when we went on a business trip to Pittsburgh with the hubba-hubba-hubby, we stayed in the hotel while he went to classes and seminars and then in the evening we took him to the mall where they had a nice little play area with other little kids to play with and walked around. On the last day we checked out, got dropped off at the mall to do a little shopping and browsing while he finished up his last few hours and I took Kyan in search of a new toy. He'd been stuck in the room playing with his toys for 3 1/2 days and I figured he was getting bored and he was sooooooo unbeeelieeeevably well behaved at dinner each night, in the hotel, wherever we dragged his entourage like luggage around to and I like to reward him with a new small toy or something when he is really good. Yes, I know. I'm spoiling him some would say. Not the case. My Mom would always let my sister and I pick a small toy (crayons and coloring book, new story book, Barbie doll outfit, pens and stationary, etc.) when we were well behaved at the store and we learned to behave ourselves this way. No gimmie gimmies or fits thrown in each isle for us! So we went to the Disney Store and I turned him loose to find the perfect something and after we walked around in awe he got really excited over these small plush disney characters. He's really big on hugging things lately and he gets upset because he is a little guy and Mommy is afraid to let him sleep with his big stuffed Bambi that he loves to carry around, and who can blame him when you fall asleep holding something cozy and wake up in a crib alone. So I thought, "These are the perfect little size for him to hug and love, sleep with, carry around without tripping over, yes he may have one!" Well he's also big on "I need one for each hand!" and I didn't realize that he had picked out a stuffed Stitch and also a Dumbo. When the cashier said, "Well, they're either $6.50 for 1 or 2 for $10" I said "SOLD! GIVE HIM BOTH!" Not only did he fall asleep in the stroller with them moments later, he also carried them around the mall all day, as well as in the car, into the resturant on the way home, slept with them each night since, says "ITS! ITS!" excitedly when you give him Stitch, but he also has managed to get bananas and goodness knows what else on the poor dolls in the process because it's nice to share food with your buddies. So tonight we went to Walmart while Daddy took a nap to start night shift this week. As usual, Stitch had to go with us and we got our jacket and shoes, buckled up and went to Wally World. Somewhere between Socks, Baby Stuff, and Groceries, Stitch got lost. I felt really bad because I noticed that he became really antsy and fussy at some point but I figured it's because he hates Walmart with a passion at times because he wants to get out of the buggy and run around. I SHOULD'VE realized with my Mommy Super Powers that he had lost Stitch but no, I probably let him bounce off the buggy or my foot and get lost. It's now been a few hours, a few phone calls to Walmart to see if they've found him yet, and a few tears and tantrums since the accident but we're now adjusting. Since we've come home all I've heard is "ITS?! ITS?!" in the car, in the house, putting away groceries, after eating pizza (yes, I bribed him with cheesey goodness), and it intensified when we went to go to sleep. Sadly no toy that I gave him is a fair substitute for Stitch. Hopefully in the morning we'll have found him, as I have an APB out in Walmart for him as we speak. I have 2 girls who graduated with my sister who work there looking for him, a cashier who asked him what was wrong and had to hear the sob story, every employee on my hour long retrace of Walmart that I stopped to ask if they'd seen a little stuffed furry Disney alien, the entire Curteousy Desk staff that I've called twice now, the maintenance staff that they paged as well as the grocery manager who was also put on red alert. Hopefully we'll know something by morning! So... if you go into Walmart and see something out of the corner of your eye, or can't find a cashier to save your life... it's because all of Sam Walton's employees are searching for Kyan's lovie. |
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| Now I'm naming my son after a ballpark... |
Hubby is a die hard Red Sox fan and of course he's all excited about his precious "bosox" going to the World Series. Last night was game 7 and he's all tuned in, coaching from the living room floor, and making me come in for every "awesome play" with a gleaming "You've GOTTA see this one!" Personally, I'm used to no post season. Hell, I'm used to barely getting through the regular season, for I am a die hard Pittsburgh Pirate fan of three generations. Basically going and enjoying a game in my childhood Summers with my father and grandfather as they chugged through each inning, complain about the price of the beers they were so eagerly consuming, and then stopping for our second dinner on the way home. Wonderful memories.
Last night we're sitting on the floor, as somehow I got sucked into the ever romantic "I've never watched game 7 with any other girl before" and "I want to say I sat here with my wife" blah blah blahs, and out of sarcasm I say the words that I now am coming to regret.
"So I guess now we're naming our next son Fenway (Fenway Park is where the "BoSox" play)."
It was as if he did the slow mo, mouth open, head turn and the clouds burst forth a shining light that wasn't just the glare of fingerprints from my t.v. screen, and now apparently we're working around the name Fenway.
It's not that I regret saying it because I feel it's wrong to pick Fenway over our lovely PNC Park because I guess I could work something out like Philip Nigel Clark as my child's first and middle names and then call him "Hey, PNC, please play nice with your brother!" or that I plan to name him after one of the famous Pittsburg Peirogi Race entrants. It's not even that I like names that are different and oldfashioned and unique, because I figure that not too many children in the greater West Virginia area have the name Fenway. It's the fact that it's growing on me! I've been thinking all day of a way to incorporate the name Fenway into a possible baby name. We had two wonderful and planned out baby names, one boy and one girl, when we got pregnant and since we had a boy we haven't replaced it in preparation for the next son (if we are so lucky) although I've heard names and toyed with the idea and then brushed it off or forgot completely about it. It's also not because I have randomly strong bouts of baby fever lately, especially when two of the people I hang out with now through Mom's Club and my cousin are all announcing pregnancies. Nor is it now not really important to me that there are a few celebrities and other people who have children they nicknamed "Phin/Fen/Fin". So apparently, we're now naming our next son after a ballpark.
- Kollen Fenway or Kollin Fenway or Kollan Fenway
- Kasey Fenway
- Fenway Huck or Huck Fenway
(Possible renditions of the name and variations) |
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Alias: SNM
Hometown: Farmington, WV, United States
About Me: SMN is currently a S@HM who resides in the Senior Citizen capital of the world. Amongst her many talents are writing, tiptoeing through the mind field that is her living room, saving run away strollers, lacing any comment with sarcasm, and changing a diaper in 10 seconds flat. Her greatest achievements are birthing Thing One and Thing Two. Ongoing projects include diving into the world of blogging, weaning an aggressive breast feeder, parenting and all it's challenges, and being a wife she can live with (as well as her husband).
See my profile...
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