Things are good.
Well, things are as good as they could be as a pregnant solo mom, I suppose.
We haven't had any crazy-scary-mommy days lately. My mood seems to have leveled out, and I feel like a much calmer and more relaxed parent. I have as much energy as I'm going to have between now and 2014. First and I are hitting our stride as Just the Two of Us, settling into a routine that works and keeps us both relatively pleasant company.
My belly is growing, but it's not cumbersome. It is interfering with bending over (which I often forget). It's an excellent dog pillow. Yesterday First lifted my shirt, pointed to it and said "brother!" I'm only just beginning to have a hard time getting comfortable to sleep.
Right now is a time when I foresee the discomfort ahead, the physical challenges of having a giant belly and an active toddler. I know that one of these days I need to think about the birth and train my husband to be the birth partner I need. And I'm forcing myself to stop there, to avoid remembering the first months of new life. I'm repressing memories of exhaustion and breastfeeding. I'm not allowing myself to wonder how it will work with a 2-year-old to take care of, too.
Instead, I'm enjoying this time that I have to give entirely to my first son, to relax in the moments he's at nursery or sleeping. Perhaps I've found peace with knowing that I won't have these quiet moments again for a couple of years after Second is born?
Showing posts with label solo parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label solo parenting. Show all posts
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Sunday, September 16, 2012
19 Weeks: 19th Nervous Breakdown
People who read my other blog tell me that I come across as pretty even-keeled and strong. Friends and family say that about the fact that I'm a military wife.
I feel like I don't have a choice in the matter. Either I'm living this life or I'm dead. Really, though, I do have a choice, and that is to not completely melt down in front of any of them. Ultimately, I don't reveal 100% of myself to anyone, because I'm pretty sure no one wants to hear it. Also, I feel like I'm supposed to remain stoic on behalf of everyone who has chosen this life.
Good lord, do I have my days. Especially lately, with these raging pregnancy hormones. And especially on days when I'm exhausted and counting on rest that I can't get because First is screaming "mama mama mama mama" from his crib instead of napping (and usually when that happens, the dog starts whining at me, too). When my husband is around, I can ask him to go in and tell the kiddo that it's seriously time to sleep. Or I can count on him to have the patience to rock him to sleep, or to have enough energy to play with him while I get in a quick break. But he left today.
Going it alone is tough. You don't get to collaborate with your spouse when you don't know what to do. There's no one to step in when you just can't turn off your tears or bear the screaming any longer. You just go and scream and sob into your pillows until you can compose yourself enough to face your child with at least some self control. Unless you aren't pregnant, maybe, when you can keep it in and save it for the post-bedtime glass-or-so of wine.
In anticipation of Second's arrival, I intend to switch First to a toddler bed and knock out potty training. He's ready for both. I am not. These are things I'll be doing on my own. And I'm terrified.
I'm terrified of the exhaustion that will come with it and never go away, because Second is just around the corner. I'm terrified of my (in)ability to control my actions so that I come across as the mom I want to be, especially when I'm exhausted. I'm terrified that the stress that's shaking out from all of this is harmful to this little being growing inside of me.
I need a vacation. (Our 2.5 week adventure to the States for my sister-in-law's wedding did not count.) I could even use just one relative within an hour's drive to take over once in a while. I don't have it, though, so I just keep going. After I have one of these meltdowns, the guilt kicks in. Then when I realize there's no one on the way to tell me how to get through it, I remind myself of the things there are to look forward to in a new day.
I look forward to going back to our toddler yoga class. I'm excited about a new music class we've started. I cannot WAIT until I get my little guy into his twice-a-week morning preschool. And I keep telling myself that no matter what, I WILL get to go to Spain before we leave our assignment in England. I suppose I'm looking forward to meeting this little munchkin that's starting bounce around in here, too.
Each night before I go to bed I give myself the goal of waking up the next day prepared to savor and enjoy it. And there are lots of those moments in most days. There's just no telling what's going to roar through these veins at a moment's notice.
Here's hoping for a good night's sleep and a better day tomorrow.
I feel like I don't have a choice in the matter. Either I'm living this life or I'm dead. Really, though, I do have a choice, and that is to not completely melt down in front of any of them. Ultimately, I don't reveal 100% of myself to anyone, because I'm pretty sure no one wants to hear it. Also, I feel like I'm supposed to remain stoic on behalf of everyone who has chosen this life.
Good lord, do I have my days. Especially lately, with these raging pregnancy hormones. And especially on days when I'm exhausted and counting on rest that I can't get because First is screaming "mama mama mama mama" from his crib instead of napping (and usually when that happens, the dog starts whining at me, too). When my husband is around, I can ask him to go in and tell the kiddo that it's seriously time to sleep. Or I can count on him to have the patience to rock him to sleep, or to have enough energy to play with him while I get in a quick break. But he left today.
Going it alone is tough. You don't get to collaborate with your spouse when you don't know what to do. There's no one to step in when you just can't turn off your tears or bear the screaming any longer. You just go and scream and sob into your pillows until you can compose yourself enough to face your child with at least some self control. Unless you aren't pregnant, maybe, when you can keep it in and save it for the post-bedtime glass-or-so of wine.
In anticipation of Second's arrival, I intend to switch First to a toddler bed and knock out potty training. He's ready for both. I am not. These are things I'll be doing on my own. And I'm terrified.
I'm terrified of the exhaustion that will come with it and never go away, because Second is just around the corner. I'm terrified of my (in)ability to control my actions so that I come across as the mom I want to be, especially when I'm exhausted. I'm terrified that the stress that's shaking out from all of this is harmful to this little being growing inside of me.
I need a vacation. (Our 2.5 week adventure to the States for my sister-in-law's wedding did not count.) I could even use just one relative within an hour's drive to take over once in a while. I don't have it, though, so I just keep going. After I have one of these meltdowns, the guilt kicks in. Then when I realize there's no one on the way to tell me how to get through it, I remind myself of the things there are to look forward to in a new day.
I look forward to going back to our toddler yoga class. I'm excited about a new music class we've started. I cannot WAIT until I get my little guy into his twice-a-week morning preschool. And I keep telling myself that no matter what, I WILL get to go to Spain before we leave our assignment in England. I suppose I'm looking forward to meeting this little munchkin that's starting bounce around in here, too.
Each night before I go to bed I give myself the goal of waking up the next day prepared to savor and enjoy it. And there are lots of those moments in most days. There's just no telling what's going to roar through these veins at a moment's notice.
Here's hoping for a good night's sleep and a better day tomorrow.
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