It has been some time since the last HMV post. And why? I don't know. I am completely exhausted. That's one thing. Although I sit down with every intention of writing, it usually ends with Jake nudging me awake, a hot laptop in my lap, permanently set to Facebook.com or email or my blogs. The blogs I read, and envy, and convince myself that I will never be like, because let's face it, I don't have that kind of time to write.
I get the irony. The time is right there in front of me. Sort of. When you work full time and have a baby and a house and a dog and a family that can't get enough of you (which I love, truly), the thought of doing anything other than falling face-first into the couch at night is just overwhelming.
We all love it when motherhood looks like this:
|Sometime last summer, 2012|
|Another time last summer|
But it also looks like this sometimes:
Sometimes it is just Too Much. Everything is Too Much. The dishes, the grocery store, the phone call that you know you should make to a friend but can't. What if you can't be happy for her? What if she tells you that she is so happy for you? And then you have to say thanks, and pretend that all is well. After all, that is what it looks like. On Facebook, on Instagram, in the Christmas cards.
But I firmly believe that it isn't like that for everyone. Not all the time. And my desire to reach out and tell you all that I understand, I have been there too, is greater than my embarrassment and my fear to be the only one. We are all afraid to be the first one to say those things we really think. "Sometimes I can't wait until 7:30 because that is when my child goes to bed and I get to be alone." "Sometimes I just cry." "Sometimes I want to scream at her." My child. My world.
Scary thoughts. And I know for some mamas, it is much worse. For some mamas, it is much better. But it gets hard for everyone. And we do a disservice to each other --and more importantly, ourselves-- when we compare. So I won't compare. I will just say that for me, right now, it is hard.
|Lighten up, little one!|
And it doesn't help that right now the whole world seems sad around me. My dear coworker's spouse was killed in a tragic hit-and-run incident. The details are too sad to share. It is so dark over here, at work. We are usually so light and optimistic. I am* optimistic.
(*Just not right now.)
And then there is the news. 26 people died in Connecticut because of a madman with a gun. And more died at a mall in Portland before that. And more died in Aurora, Colorado before that, where some of my family lives. These events hit too close to home. I want to run out into the street yelling "WE'VE GOT TO STOP ALL THIS VIOLENCE!" We have to!! I am panicked at idea of Olivia growing up in a country like this. With killing machines in the hands of madmen that no one can stop them from buying, and every time we try to talk about getting a handle on the situation, the NRA and their ilk rear their ugly heads (and their money) and make us even MORE scared of what would happen if we didn't let madmen own guns.
Whew... ok, I am getting a little heated. Breathe...
I want to leave you on a good note, readers. I want to tell you that I will be fine and this will pass and in the grand scheme of things there really are more good times than bad. I really am a lighthearted person. And sometimes even funny.
I just need to sit with the sadness for a moment. I need you to listen. I needed to share that picture. I never have before, but it is as real as all the rest. I know I am not alone. It helps to hear that said out loud.
|Me comforting her|
Last night, for a brief moment, she comforted me too