Talking

I feel contemplative today. I've been an ornery mess lately. Poor little Rayne gets the end of my patience almost everyday. My mom reminded me the other day that it's okay to not care- not care that she's throwing food around the house or having a tantrum or won't brush her teeth before insisting on the green Chapstick. I like to think I'd be a calmer person if I had my own space, if I wasn't worried that her messes are messing up someone else's house, her tantrums hurting someone else's ears etc. Maybe I'd be just as tired and short of patience. And, maybe it is okay to not care, even when I'm in someone else's space.
We had a good night's sleep last night- thank goodness! We all needed it. I feel much more calm and happy today. It's scary how much sleep affects me. Sometimes I'm sure I can't handle things just because I'm tired. And how differently I can view and handle things when I've slept. I keep telling myself that once I have the baby, my body can start to heal and I'll feel better. I forget about being up every few hours to feed him. The newborn part was the easy part with Rayne. I felt so good not being pregnant and she slept so well... better than expected anyway. But now I haven't had a full night's sleep in over two years and that worries me a bit.
I'm a lot more calm this time though. I think what I was imagining as the worst that could happen two years ago has now happened. So there's nothing (not as much anyway) to fear. And I'm home with my baby and that has been the greatest blessing ever. I used to say that I would give anything for that, I felt it was that important- so here we are. In someone else's house, moving every few months, and not knowing where we'll be for sure every few months. It's draining and exhausting but we're okay. We have a place to live, food to eat, and we have each other. As cliche as it is, that really is the important thing.
In my latest wave of bitterness, I sometimes think how "easy" it would be to send Rayne to daycare. All I'd have to do is get her dressed in the morning and feed and bathe her at night and wouldn't I look like the perfect mom? Her hair would always be combed and she'd wear cute clothes and my house (I'd have a house :) would always be pristine. I know it's not that easy for working mom's, but sometimes there are some I feel judge me so I like to lash back in my mind. But Rayne is a happy girl, despite the frustrated tantrums. And she is so smart and so secure- she's shy and cautious but not afraid of anything. Sometimes I feel like I'm failing as a mom, losing my cool too often and, being pregnant, much too lazy for her. But then I see her play with her baby doll or how she takes care of people and toys and dogs, and I think perhaps I am doing something right.
Everyday I worry about Jeff's mom coming home to a sink full of dirty dishes, not to mention toys everywhere etc. I try so hard to at least keep dishes done. But, I wash them in the morning and they pile up by the end of the day- sometimes even when I feel like all we've eaten all day is sandwiches on paper plates! I just feel so bad and hate the thought of her working all day and coming home to our mess in her house. But, the other night, she thanked me for doing dishes and told me how much she appreciates that I do that. I thought of course I do, it's our mess and apologized for not being better about them. Perhaps, as always, I judge myself too harshly.
Perhaps today, in a rested, happy state, I can let go of the pressures I put on myself. I can take the next 7-8 weeks before this baby comes to rest and calm down and gee, maybe even be happy and enjoy my life, my people, even my own thoughts.