It’s 5:19am as I sit down to write this. My daughter woke me up over an hour ago asking urgently, MOM! WHERE’S BINKI!? (Yes, I know, she’s three and still sleeping with a binki–I’m WORKING ON IT).
Well it turned out binki had fallen into that tight place between her bed and the wall, the one where you can never really see that the binki is down there unless you employ a light source of some kind. I guess the length and involvement of the this morning’s binki search pushed me way past groggily-awake-but-functioning to hey-now-I’m-ready-to-face-the=day! because the whole thing happened over an hour again and I can’t seem to fall back asleep.
I’d be annoyed with her but she was so cute and cheerful about it. And of course she feel right back to sleep, while I stayed up to listen and watch as the compost truck failed to pick up the ten giant bags of yard waste that I spent 30 minutes hauling to the curb last night.
I guess I just need to resign myself to the fact that today is going to be a crappy kind of day.
The truth is, I’ve been in a grumbling kind of mood this week. I think it’s a mixture of a lot of things: the let down after nine fun-filled days with family in St. Louis compounded by the isolation of being mostly alone or with Isa. Not a lot of adult interaction happening lately, especially with Mi.Vida gone so much for his music festival, which was a huge success this Saturday.
So yeah, there is the isolation and the general malaise that comes with that. I’m not great with isolation, just another of a million reasons why I would be a shitty SAHM (a point which my mom keeps making for me, not sure why, since the option to be a SAHM is not actually on the table, so I don’t know why I need to be reminded that I would suck at it).
I think I also feel generally annoyed with how busy Mi.Vida has been. I knew it was going to be a bad week and I was prepared for it, but the truth is it’s just another of a string of bad weeks where he’s so busy and stressed and tired and sick (or about to be sick or just over being sick) that it makes me wonder if he’ll ever be available to participate in family life, or our relationship, again.
I’ve also been feeling really frustrated about money lately. We’re tightening our belts, getting ready for my part-time status and three months of mostly unpaid FMLA leave. It sucks that money is always at the forefront of every decision we make, big or small. Lately I’ve been looking into getting Isa a captain’s bed (or maybe a not-too-high loft bed) with storage space underneath and I found a great one on Craigslist, only the person never contacted me back (but left the stupid post up, which drives me bonkers). Three other unanswered inquiries, and an extended google search on how much these kinds of beds actually cost, later and I’m disappointed, frustrated and upset. I also got it in my head that a captain’s bed for our room would be amazing, as we each have three measly drawers to call our own, but of course no one responds to those inquiries on Craigslist either and a new one is way out of price range.
I know these are dumb, first world problems. And honestly, I think part of why I’m obsessing over this dumb shit is because the injustice suffered by Trayvon Martin and his family is just too much for me to wrap my head around right now and has me distraught over the future of this country. When one can’t handle the failings of our justice system one obsesses about captain’s beds, right?
And finally, at the root of most of this crappy attitude is my birthday, which is tomorrow and which will surely be a disappointment, which means really it’s my problem because clearly I just need to adjust my expectations and everything will be fine.
I know birthdays aren’t really a thing in your thirties; the last four have sucked pretty bad. Last year I spent the day starting my period after a cycle I was sure had worked. The year before that MV was with a friend at the hospital all day while I watched 16 Candles during Isa’s nap and felt sorry for myself. The year before that was okay, I can’t remember if we did anything but I don’t believe it was a searing disappointment. And of course there was the birthday that happened a week after my ectopic pregnancy. Nothing quite says celebration like the side effects of methotrexate and worrying that every pain in your distended abdomen might be your tube bursting.
Sometimes I wish my parents hadn’t made such a big deal about our birthdays when we were young, maybe then I wouldn’t feel so disappointed when mine pass with so little fan fare. I doubt I’ll even receive a card tomorrow, let alone a present of any kind. And I know this. It happens that way every year. I’m pretty sure Mi.Vida knows I’m expecting a little something but he can’t ever seem to get his shit together well enough to do anything about it. Luckily he sets the bar so low that when his birthday rolls around four days later I don’t have to do a goddamn thing (which is how he likes it).
I suppose this all comes back to how differently we express love and affection and how honestly, I’m not quite sure what it is that he does that is supposed to clue me in on how he feels for me. At this point he is doing absolutely nothing for me on a regular basis, no work around the house, very limited child care or family involvement, no tokens of affection. He has been better about dropping me a peck on the cheek in the morning before he leaves for work, but sometimes he goes to bed and I don’t even realize it until I hear his snoring.
Anyway, I guess I’m just in a downish kind of place. I’m sure it’s my birthday, and social injustice and pregnancy hormones and fear of going to work right when this pregnancy kicks into high gear, and dissatisfaction with my relationship and frustrations about money and all the things that come together to make one feel a little on the depressed side.
Of course sleep deprivation is not going to help any, so I suppose I should head back to bed. Isa should be awake in an hour and a half. Today is her first day in the three year old classroom and she is intent on never setting foot at school again (being back after vacation has been TOUGH), so this morning should be a doozy.
I hope you’re all having a way better Tuesday than I am. 😉
Do your birthdays get you down? Am I the only one who’s disappointed every time?