I'm really really not having a bad week. Let's get that out of the way first.
It's just that we are into week two of Operation "While Ken Is Away For Work' and while last week went by without a hitch, this one is feeling a bit more daunting. What do you mean, you ask? Well, for starters, last week, Sloane all of a sudden decided that bed time really was bed time and that she would fall asleep as soon as she hit the crib. It was glorious. 'I think she's gotten it!' I told Ken over the phone. I saw a bright future ahead of us. Also, it was the of the utmost help that I started last week off by going to bed extra extra early for the first couple of days. (It's always the sleep thing, isn't it?)
A few things aside, I'm having a good week filled with things like homemade corn tortillas and a special lemon day with my lady friends (more on this later!), but something is slightly askew. When I described to Ken what I am about to describe here now, he prescribed more sleep, and repeatedly assured me that I would not end up at a mental institute. That's what husbands are for!
You know what I have to do in these days? At least once a day, I empty out all of the things that are in my brain down onto a piece of paper. I write it out - the words, the thoughts, the lists, the to-dos. It's nothing fancy, and it's a lot of scribbles, but it helps. I used to do this back in the day, and we're back to it now, for different reasons, but it works for me, especially because it sometimes really feels like things are going to overflow out of my brain and dribble down the sides of my head.
It's true, I couldn't fall asleep on Sunday night because my brain would not.shut.off. It was running amuck cataloguing all of the things that I had to do for this upcoming week (I want to insert a note here to say, when I say "all the things I had to do", I don't mean it in the ways of "all the things that I have to do that I actually don't want to do", I mean it in the sense of "all the things I want to do and need to do in order to keep my life running both smooth and joyful." Just so we're clear.) I made it to work on Monday in one piece (why yes, I do feel a huge sense of accomplishment by just making it into work; it's no simple feat.) but later on that day, I found myself in a situation where I totally forgot my phone number. I was leaving a voice message and after the area code, MY MIND WENT COMPLETELY BLANK and grasping for straws, I started saying my very old telephone number because that is what my brain pushed that out of my mouth in a mad panic. Needless to say, that was one of the more embarassing voice messages I've left. Later on that evening, while preparing Sloane's food for the next day, I forgot to put the steam basket into the pot, leaving the apple slices to just boil in the water instead of being steamed. Up until this point, it was laughable. Then, while I was taking out my contacts, I must have had a moment of blacking/blanking out because I found myself grabbing my bare eyeballs with my fingers trying to take my contact out. Confused, I looked down into the sink and saw that I must have taken my contacts out and then discarded them into the sink. It was at this moment, I had the tiniest of breakdowns. Nothing too dramatic, just a slight feeling of hysteria and sadness of what-the-heck.
Just so you don't think I'm all mope and despair, this Monday was pretty fantastic. Work was long, but not bad. Sloane was especially plush and snuggly, and she entertained herself with the cabinet door long enough for me to get some things done. Friends came over to have a lemon party and I enjoyed the heck out of that. I'll have you know, that of the three things that I messed up on or forgot, I remembered and did about 54 things.
I'm writing about the ridiculousness that is the loss of some of my very basic facilities like remembering my phone number and taking out my contacts, because Tuesday's evening felt very much a part of the song that is entitled, "Is Christine going to hold it together?" Granted, the failure of the salad wasn't due to anything of my doing. I had made this gigantic batch of chicken, broccoli slaw, kale, red onion, and dried cranberries topped with an oil and balsamic vinegar dressing (inspired by Shutterbean) that I was going to eat the crap out of, but when I opened up the container of it today, something funky had happened. Strange, because on day one, I muched my way through a super delicious bowl of it, but today, it was a different animal. It was probably the chicken that had turned, but regardless, the whole thing smelled rancid and it was inedible. Terribly disappointed, I bravely went forth to conquer the next item on my list, which was returning an ill-fitting pair of jeans at that mall which is in the westest of ends, and when we get there, it was raining the fattest raindrops I ever did see. Sloane and I made it there and back, you'll be happy to know, and you'll also be interested to know that I inhaled the waffle fries that I picked up at Chik-fil-a in lightening speed.
If this were a movie, the poignant scene would be the one where right after the woman put the baby to sleep, she finds herself in the bathroom, without toilet paper, without a husband around to get her some toilet paper, listening to the baby struggle crying trying to fall asleep. Then the end of the movie, if tonight was the end of that movie, you would see the woman in serene calm, baby asleep, and you would see the woman sitting alone, eating juicy grapes, listening to some amorphous and instrumental music, slaying her to-do list, and tap tap tapping a blog post on the laptop's keyboard.
I have to write these things down, because I need to remember, that all of this - the wide-eyed wonder, the strain, the bouts of superwomanhood, the bouts of losingmymind, the satisfaction and peace, the planning and waiting - is the joy and depth that is my life right now. The joy and depth! Some of it has to do with being a mom, some of it has to do with me just figuring out how to do some of the things I want to do. A lot of it has to do with finding myself in the balance. Probably even more has to do with me finding my capacity through a very pervasive kind of grace.
you guys look like an updated version of a victorian mother/daughter portrait
ReplyDeleteyou are such a fantastic writer lady, i love your posts
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ReplyDeleteYou are doing super great!
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