And then, one day, you get out of the shower and just... are completely fine. All of a sudden.
(I wanted to post this on May 4th, but I wasn't a hundred percent sure it would stick.
(It has. Everything is totally different. I guess I just finally finished processing, or something.)
~
In May I had an awesome week or two of feeling amazing about life, being all like, man, I have no problems! This is crazy! What do other people worry about, anyway? I wonder what my first new problem will be! Then there was a sudden tragic death in my local religious community, and I felt very strange about my idea of what it means to have problems.)
Aaaaaanyway. We potty-trained Daniel in about a week after his third birthday, and that was part of why I felt so amazing. It was like I had finally passed the final rite and become a Real Mom. I did it! Birth, that just kind of happens. Potty-training, though, you could theoretically just not do, if you were a horrible person. But I did it, and Daniel did it, and it was actually really fun, because I spend that week being incredibly involved with him, setting aside all distractions and paying close attention. I
loved it. He behaved better for the attention, and I was less frustrated by always trying to do other things. We enjoyed each other.
Sadly, it didn't take me very long to forget that lesson. I'm just now (like, today) coming out of several weeks of being an unexploded bomb of rage and misery and hating-my-life-as-a-mother. Although much of that has come from problems with nursing; I guess I won't go into the gory details, except to mention that the details actually involve gore. x_x And that drove me to wanting more distractions, which led to me ignoring Daniel a lot, which led to him misbehaving. But things to have resolved, or nearly so! Partly from technique-adjustments, and partly because Noah is six months old now (what?!?) and so we've been experimenting with solid food. In doing so I have discovered that he
really really likes and wants and is good at eating solid food. Yay!! It helps that he has five teeth already, plus two almost-teeth (see above re: nursing problems). I've been giving him mini-meals the last couple days, and there's been a huge reduction in the whining and crying and a big increase in smiles. I'm hopeful that we can move more rapidly into nursing just once or twice a day than I did with Daniel (who didn't have a single tooth until he was 8 months, and who nursed to sleep, and with whom I also had painful problems around this age).
I also sat down with Heath last night and set a bunch of new, small goals about how I spend my time all day, aiming to maximize my usefulness and happiness and minimize my angst and frustration. I do way better at life when I have goals, even if I don't exactly meet them. Today went really well inside of me, even when it was chaotic and messy and loud and obnoxious outside of me. So that's awesome. (It also helped to be back in my own apartment, my own place that I'm in charge of, after a week with family. My family is awesome and it was so much fun, but being in one's own home is more the kind of awesome I seem to be in need of right this second, sanity-wise. Have I even mentioned that my sister is home from Nicaragua? I like her.)
(I also like: my kids. Noah was so adorable it was insane today--all happy and grinning all over the place with his little teeth, sitting up on his own all fat and cute, bouncing in his doorway bouncer so hard I thought he might land on his fluffy-diapered little butt. And Heath had a break in the middle of the day, so while the two of them took naps, Daniel and I went off by ourselves for a walk around town. This is absolutely my favorite thing to do as a mother, and I don't do it very often anymore. It was so much fun, and so nice. I miss him when we've been clashing. (When we were nursing, we always had to emotionally reconnect no matter what else was going on, and while I know that won't be the case for most of my time as a mom, it's still new to me (we nursed till he was two, still more than half his life) and I'm still learning to cope with the lost resource. I think that's the main reason I haven't made any gestures toward actually weaning Noah, even when I've had every reason to do so. I don't want to miss out on having that foundation with him as he gets older and more independent.)
So there is my boring and self-indulgent update! In other news, I might start a separate SCA blog because, oh yes, I am that big of a nerd. I do think it's more fun to talk about all my stuff in one place, but I also don't want random society people being like, cool post about late medieval Portuguese armory! What else you got here? Nipple problems, eh? Unfortunate, sister.
I also want to write a less rambling entry about how my identity has evolved lately in the face of my constant ambivalence about my ongoing choice to be a full-time caretaker, but I'm not sure it makes any sense. The short version is, I get way happier and more relaxed when I think of homemaking and kid-entertaining as my job. Like the kind you get hired for. Get up in the morning, get dressed, go to work! Don't slack off during your shift! Don't try to do other things and pretend you're not at work! Even if I'm doing it all the time and don't get as many breaks as I might want, if it's just my
job, it's not who I
am. This is why I used the word "caretaker" there. Being a mother is in fact a big part of who I am now, and I love that fiercely. But that's about my relationships with these two people, not about whether or not they live in my house and need me to make it a certain kind of environment for them. That part, the part I
do, is just a job. And therefore I don't have to thrive on it. I can just do my best at it, and enjoy the kids I'm doing it for as much as possible, without having to transform into an archetype of it. I don't have to become it in order to do it, no matter how much of my time it takes. I can love my kids (which comes easily), get the home-making done (which doesn't), and still be me inside throughout the process. It's not like this is some magic formula that will prevent me from ever getting tired or burned-out, but it helps me feel less oppressed by my own perfectionism. I can get up in the morning and say "okay, I guess I better do some motherish stuff" instead of "ugh, I don't feel like a mother-ish person today...again." It's just stuff. And if I save the selfish things I /want/ to do (especially ones that park me at the computer) for when Heath is home or everyone else is asleep, I may not get as much time in on them, but I'm happier because I'm not spending my day getting interrupted. That ratchets up the resentment-points way too fast.
Whoa, I just went back to edit that paragraph and dozed off in my chair.