This Crazy Life

I love my life as a stay-at-home-mom. Sure, the hours are long and I'm lucky if I get a chance to pee by myself throughout the day. My clothes usually reek of some type of bodily fluid or cleaning agent. I often have to resist the urge to shove my baby into his father's arms when he gets home and say "Here! Take him. I need a break!" Truth be told, I occasionally resent not having ME time, or having to put things I enjoy doing on the back burner so that I can take care of my family's needs. These small sacrifices pay off, though. Even the lack of financial means is worth the treasure of being blessed with 24/7 time with my baby. I get to be there for all the firsts, to kiss all the booboos, and to share the awe of his every new discovery. I don't have to pay a childcare facility or get a family member to take care of my child for me. I consider this a luxury that I will never take for granted. I am certainly not saying that working moms are bad parents; quite the contrary! I respect their ability to run a household AND a career. What works for one family, may not for the other. It's not a contest of who is doing the better job. We all have a built-in instinct to help us determine what is best for OUR family, and for that reason we should not ever allow ourselves to be swayed by outside opinions or criticism. That being said, I know I am doing what is best for my particular family and for my particular circumstances. It's not all smiles and smooth sailing. Being a housewife and mother can be just as stressful as a corporate position. What's more, we risk the chance of being plagued by depression, isolation, and sheer burnout from the nonstop responsibilities. I always have to remind myself not to be too afraid or proud to ask for help when I need it. Especially dealing with the ups and downs of mental illness, I really need some breathing room sometimes. And I'm crazy enough to add college to the mix! It's quite a juggling act, to say the least. Still, I'm blessed to have two fantastic daughters, an awesome son, and the most loving and supportive partner a girl could ever hope for. These four individuals mean more to me than anything else combined in the world, and I know there's not a job out there that would fulfill me as much as taking care of them <3

February 15th

Today marks three years since Daddy passed away. I still have days where I wrestle with one or more of the painful stages of grief: denial, loneliness, guilt, anger, depression...three years and I still grab the phone to call him just to chat like we used to and have to stop myself from dialing the number because I know he won't be the one answering. Some days I can't move past the hurt and regrets, or past the knowledge that the most influential person in my life is gone forever. Some days I still blame myself for what happened, as if I could have somehow magically cured his cancer and he would still be here. These thoughts drive me crazy. But, despite these troubling emotions, I am proud to say I have more good days than bad now. I've reached a level where I can happily look back on the wonderful memories I have of Daddy without breaking down every time. I honor his memory by overcoming my past and doing with my life what I think he would want me to. It still hurts. I have a son that will never know the amazing man that he would have called Pawpaw, and my daughters still miss him terribly. I know my mom still aches over the loss so very much as well. But together, we keep his spirit alive, by loving and caring for one another, and remembering him in special ways with the personal memories we each have of him. I miss Daddy. Every day, I miss him. I can't pretend to know whether there is really a heaven or hell, or whether he watches over me or can still see the paths my life takes, but every once in a while I sense his presence, and I cling to the hope that somehow, some way, I will see him again. If not, then I still want to live my life in a way that would make him happy, as if he is still alive, cheering me on. There's scarcely a care that matters more to me than making my dad proud. After all, I always was, and will always remain, a Daddy's girl.

Memories, a Nurtured Neurosis

My sleep was filled with dreams of my dad all night. I miss him terribly. Most days I can shove that grief into a corner and carry on without a second thought, but other days it takes center stage against all other cares in my mind. I still hold onto a lot of regret about the last years of his life. I wish I had been there more. I wish I had not taken him for granted out of shame over my own misgivings. It has been three years, and I still reach for the phone to call him some days. I hate cancer. And I hate myself, for the impression I must have left with him before he died.

I know a lot of my obsession over having a clean house is due to him. He was always on my mom's case about the house when I was growing up. My mom's never been a great housekeeper, and that irked my dad so much. They were both such hoarders, and I felt like I was suffocating in that house. Then, when they moved to the bigger house, it got a little better for a while. Now, it's pretty much the way it used to be. My mom's failing health prevents her from doing much around the house now, and again, I feel guilty because I need to be helping her. That is my responsibility as a daughter. But I spend all my energy fretting over the poor condition of my own home, and it's tearing me apart inside. I want everything clean and orderly, and I just don't seem to have the ability to do it on my own. And there's no one to help me. Not even to watch the baby. I really don't know what the solution is, except to keep following my new schedule and do what I can, and try (TRY!) to let go and accept my limits. Every time I fail to get the dishes done at night, or have a pile of laundry overtake the bathroom floor, or have dust caked 2 inches high on everything in sight, I hear my dad's words to my mother. I see his disappointment in my mind. And I hate myself because even after his death I can't seem to ever be as good at things as I would like to be for my father. 

Not The Greatest Day

I don't feel like writing a long drawn out blog today, but I figured I would give a quick update on Project Organize My Crazy Life. The schedule has been working well. I have gotten a lot accomplished, and even though there has not been a day yet where I managed to follow the schedule to a T, it was not my intention to have to be that rigid. This schedule gives me just enough structure to keep me on track, and that's what I have been needing. 

Today threatened to undo all the good I have been doing because, quite frankly, I feel like shit. Depression and insecurities have plagued me all day. I don't feel like going into further detail on all that is going on in my head right now, but suffice it to say, I don't feel very stable. I'm not suicidal or anything, but I'm doubting my self-worth, through no fault but my own, and it has cast a dreary forecast on my outlook on life. There. That was a pleasant way of putting it. I will save the less cheery version for another day.

My First Step on the Road to Structure

After several days/nights of Baby and I being on insanely weird sleep hours, I finally managed to have a night of close-to-norm, with Baby sleeping through the night except for a 3a.m. feeding, and me not being able to go back to sleep after said feeding, but at least feeling rested enough to face the day. So, here goes my first day implementing the schedule I have been aiming for. I know, baby steps for Baby and I, and it's okay if things go awry a few times throughout the day, but I am so ready to have us both on a functioning level of living.

My major goal for this week is to shampoo the carpets and steam clean the sofa. Before our dog passed away, he had held on for weeks with little to no control over his bladder...so yeah, lots of urine smell/stains. Plus I had been having to keep Baby and all his belongings in the bedroom with us to avoid any germy ick getting on them from the poor dying dog (I know I sound horrible; my fiance is convinced I murdered the poor thing, but I swear I did not help our sweet but yucky boxer cross over to the other side in any way, shape or form!) This had resulted in a lack of ability to walk in our bedroom without tripping over high chair, exersaucer, playpen, or numerous other devices, and left no where for Baby to roam free. I want to reclaim the living area so we can actually LIVE in there, and not be jam packed in this little bedroom like restless sardines. If I accomplish nothing else this week, I want to get this task finished.

Other things on the horizon are:
-Organizing Baby's clothes-sorting through what he has outgrown and deciding what to sell/consign, what to keep for sentimental reasons, and what to give to my friend who has a younger baby boy.
 -Cleaning my desk off. Look at this mess!

-Getting stuff from the storage unit that I need, and taking stuff to the thrift store that I don't need, and putting some of the stuff hanging around the house that's in the way into the storage unit, at least temporarily until I can figure out what else to do with it. Our eventual goal is to get rid of the storage unit altogether, or buy our own, since renting it is money out of our pockets each month. Fly away money is never a good thing.

There are, of course, so many other things I need and/or want to get done around here, but these are the first and foremost. If I can focus on one thing at a time, I may actual accomplish something! It is so hard for me to do this, but it's not impossible (I hope).

How 'Bout Getting Off These Antibiotics...

Okay, truth be told, the new schedule I was so adamant about has not worked out just yet, and I haven't finished my cleaning list either. I have been very sick though, so I will excuse myself this one time for not sticking to what I planned. I finally broke down and got some antibiotics from the doctor, and so far they have just made me feel worse (nausea, ick) but hopefully I will be on the mend soon. OH, and I'm not pregnant. Still no period since November, but apparently my birth control is causing it.

Mentally, I have been fairly stable. Depression is minimal. Mood swings are somewhat in a bearable range for me and for all persons around me. Yesterday our dog died, and I was the one who found him dead in the living room. I think I would have been fine if I had not stared into his eyes. It has haunted me ever since. Now, I don't know if I am hallucinating or if I have an ability to spy into the supernatural, but I have been seeing a lot of disturbing things in the past two days, and hearing things too. I plan to do a cleansing ritual throughout the house very soon. I have never dabbled in that sort of thing before, but I believe it is worth a shot. Thoughts? Anyone? Is anyone even reading? Très douteux .

I went to church last Sunday. Yeah, really! My youngest daughter was being baptized. I know my religious past and present don't really share the same views, and I owe a lot of that to my mental illness, I think. It seems like when my mind started unraveling, so did my spiritual world. Some-many, actually-would say it was quite the opposite, that sin and the devil got his foot in the door and my mental problems were a result. Who is to know for sure about God, life, and insanity...I don't really know what to think anymore. I have so many doubts, so many questions that seemingly don't have any clear answers. What of it? Is my life any better without religion being a part of it? Is it any worse? Where would I be now if I was still a devout Christian? Well, I think I know the answer to that one, but would that be where I was meant to be? And if I was meant to be there, why am I here instead? I know one thing: I have found the most loving relationship I could have ever imagined with my fiance, and we have been blessed with an awesome son. Part of me fears that they will be taken away from me. I fear everything, and remain sure of nothing. These fears keep me bound far more than anyone knows.

Hmmm...the dab of BBQ sauce on my plate just jumped up and did a little dance, so I'm leaning more toward the prospect of hallucinations. Sighhhhh

I'll Take a Nap to Go, Please

This is going to be a long day, considering that all three kids got up at some point during the night, and the moment I finally got back in bed the baby woke up again, and now he is so wired and playful that I doubt he will be nodding off before the other two get up again. Oh well. I just enjoy everyone being here under one roof. Not even sleep can compare with that!