My mind is a jumbled mess. I have a million things going on and I feel like I can’t deal with any of them!
Last night, I dreamt about Twilight, an ex-boyfriend, and teethers. Um, what?! Yeah. I dreamt about getting a piece of gum from an ex-boyfriend, then waking up in my childhood home with a dude in my room(Twilight reference) and my dad smiling down the hall. Because he ‘caught’ me. And then a blue, plastic teether. Who knows.
I’m started to get nervous about having a toddler and a newborn. Lily has entered a toddler stage that is making me crazy. I can deal with a clingy baby. I think I’m incredibly patient with children. What I can’t stand is whining. Whining is like scratching nails on a chalkboard for me. Please stop whining. Just tell me what you want. Please make up your mind. Not only is she whining, but she’s clingy and grouchy. She’ll hit Tyson when he walks by her and yell “go!” Please be nice to Tyson. She won’t let Matt hold her, or comfort her, or kiss her. Please let Dada help me. Everything that’s even a little bit frustrating turns into a full tantrum. These shoes won’t go on my feet! It’s the end of the world! Not only has all this started, but she’s starting to think everything is hers. I feel like she’d cuss at me if she could. I feel like cussing at her sometimes. It’s my effing iPhone and my effing water bottle. And my effing lap! You have your own stuff! I understand I’m supposed to teach her patience and sharing…but c’mon. That was my doughnut. That’s not very nice.
She fake cries. Enough said.
Being a parent is not always easy. I know I’ve been blessed with a normally well-behaved child. I know that I should expect hard times and even harder times than this. The truth to parenting is that it’s not always easy for anyone. No one vents on Facebook about what a crappy morning they’re having. Well, most people don’t. So, as a parent, you can easily feel isolated. Am I the only one dealing with this? Why are everyone else’s kids acting normally? The truth is that other parents are going through the same exact thing, but they don’t ever bring up the bad times in conversation. Everyone pretends their lives are awesome all the time and they hide the crappy stuff. I’m okay with this. It’s just something to remember. At least Lily isn’t biting me.
I try to vent as best I can to people I’m close to. It’s sad when you can’t tell certain people things because you know they’ll spread your business all over the place. I don’t want everyone knowing that I told Lily I was going to throw her off the bed. I don’t want to be judged on that isolated incident. (Yes, I did say that. I wrote about it on Instagram. She started pulling my hair. After an hour of kicking, slapping, elbowing, and pinching, I had reached my breaking point. See, not everyone is perfect all the time.) The point is that I’m disappointed in so many people I consider close because I know they’ll talk about me. It hurts my feelings. I should be able to trust these people, you know? It’s not fair. And they wonder why I don’t call them every day or want to spend time with them…and what? Make sure I don’t slip and tell you some personal information? Sad.
I hate talking badly about Matt. I hate venting about our relationship to others. I don’t want him to be mad at me, and I don’t think it’s fair of me to be telling people information about him. I think, if you have an issue within a relationship, then you should tell your partner about it first. Well, I’ve done that. About thirty times. And I’m tired. Our relationship is crappy. I feel lonely and disrespected. I really don’t think this is the best time in my life to be dealing with this. I’m supposed to go through the hardest experience of my life in a few months and I feel like I need as much support as possible. You would assume my husband would be a large part of that support system, right? Nope. I don’t know if I can do this on my own. I know worrying about that is a normal part of the process- am I really strong enough? Do I really want to do this? Will everything be okay? What if I start squealing like a wild boar and just get transferred? *sigh* I think, at this point, that I should have people surrounding me and reassuring me. Is it really my job to reassure myself? It just doesn’t seem right. How am I supposed to hold myself up while I’m falling down? I’ve been pretty independent my whole life, so I know I’m a strong person. I know I can do anything by myself. But I really worry about supporting myself mentally…how is a person supposed to even do that?
You shouldn’t have to ask for help. And if you do ask for help, you should get it. And if you don’t…well, that sucks.
And I’m tired. Mentally. Physically. How am I supposed to get up with Lily in the middle of the night when I have a newborn sleeping on my chest? I understand these are normal thoughts, but that doesn’t make them any less stressful.
Oh, and my mother in law is leaving. She’s going on vacation for a month. I know most people don’t like their mother-in-law’s, but I happen to like mine. Sure, she’s not perfect, but she’s good company and she cares about what I’m dealing with. I’ll miss her. I don’t adjust well to change, and this has been bothering me. I see her every week.
In other news, I got my hair cut. Finally! And I spent $80. I nearly fell over when the stylist told me my total. I bought a crapton of Biologic or something…Matrix stuff. Fancy stuff. I really doubted whether it would be worth it, but this morning, I woke up with amazing hair. I feel like it’s silk, imported from Heaven. Seriously, feel free to feel it. Never underestimate the power of good shampoo and conditioner. My hair isn’t a frizzy thick mop. Yay!
I want to eat healthier. I want to plan our meals. I want to take Lily for walks. I want to teach her more. I want keep a cleaner house and get the garden in. I want to do so much. Stupid! There’s no way I can do all that I want to. I need to lower my expectations and relax.
Preston and Forrest are the new baby names Matt likes. I like both, but don’t love both. I wish babies were born with names. Like, here’s your baby. Lemme read his name tag for you…Oh! His name is blah blah. Wonderful! Thanks.
I wish more people vented like I did. Feel free.
Also, Amanda- blog your birth stories. I have a vague overview of what happened, but I was 12 and 14, so. Please and thank you!