Things have been good lately. Not that things have been really “bad,” but I admit there was a rough patch. Right around peanut’s birthday, I was having a hard time. He was growing up so fast. I could barely seem to remember what it was like to pace the floors, sway him until I thought my hips might pop or my arms would give way, wipe up the inordinate quantities of spit up and drool he trailed EVERYwhere, snuggle with that sweet bundle of contentment.
And, at about the one year mark, I started coming to terms with my decision to stay home. I was suddenly having a hard time being the housewife on top of being mom. I was starting to feel resentful that tasks the hubby and I used to share were slowly becoming my sole responsibility (the laundry, making dinner (and sometimes multiple meals depending on timing or food involved for our novice eater), cleaning). The hubby and I started repeating the same arguments. The peanut started running into things, which I internalized and decided every bump was another physical reminder of what a bad mom I was. I was just feeling a bit frustrated — what had I chosen for myself and how come I still couldn’t seem to get it right?
Somehow, somewhere in the last few weeks, I seem to feel in control again. Well, as in control as I can be when chasing around a toddler. I don’t know if it’s my hormones FINALLY regaining some sort of balance after nine months of pregnancy, 12 months of nursing and three months of trying to find the right pill to make me whole again (because after 19 months “friend” free, she came back with a vengeance, making up for lost time by visiting 7 times in three months – seriously, who invited her anyway?). I don’t know if it’s the weekend the hubby and I spent finally HEARING each other. I don’t know if it’s just feeling good after a week of getting real dinners on the table by 6pm each night so we could eat as a family before peanut went off to bed or hubby went to the gym or I watched my pitiful Sox remind me why there was comfort in the Curse (ah, the days when we could blame our choking in the post-season on the curse of an angry, drunk, fat, dead man, *sigh*). I don’t know if it’s finally taking ownership of this life I have chosen and therefore spending each moment more wisely.
Whatever it is, I’m going to run with it. I’m going to cherish this time. I’m going to craft away (ah…the Halloween decorating ideas I’m mulling over and the hand-made Christmas gifts I’ve started), enjoy the Fall weather, read a book and giggle through each weekend “family activity” we come up with. I’m going to own who I am and who I am becoming. I am so lucky to have this time to not only watch peanut grow, but discover myself as well.
And as a tribute, today I wore my heels to Target.