There's so many things I wish I could change about myself. I so easily look at my own faults and have a really difficult time with the things I do well. I don't usually notice them, and this week I had someone point out to me some of the things that I thought were my faults as my strengths, and because it came from a totally impartial source, not even a friend at all, it made me listen. I have a really hard time with appearing weak, but just as hard a time when people assume I'm strong and can take more than I know I can. I know - it's a frustrating dichotomy. I probably get offended a lot more than I need to, simply because I try and seem fine, and when people believe me, I get upset. Peter has gently pointed this out to me time and time again.
I'm not heading back to work right now. Not because we're rolling in loot and don't need the money, but because I can't do it right now with Bella. After the year I've had, I just can't. I don't have it in me. I'm so incredibly tired, all the time. I'm so exhausted by looking at her mark and praying that it doesn't get worse. So I had to call work and tell them that I wasn't okay with coming back, and it was one of the harder things I've done in a long time. It was incredibly humiliating. Maybe it wouldn't be for you, but for me, it felt like calling in sick on a huge scale. I felt like I was letting everyone down. We could use the money - I was letting Peter down. We could use the benefits package - I was letting Bella down. It was a job I believed was a gift and one I liked - I was letting myself down. It was a job I was mildly good at - I was letting my boss down. I felt like a wimp. Like I should somehow figure out how to suck it up, and just be tougher.
Someone told me a while back that I use the phrase "I should" way more than I need to, and that every time I do it, I need to take a step back and ask myself why I think I "should" do what I'm berating myself for.
"I should be able to relax about Bella."
She is doing better all the time, but there is still a risk. What parent, with any level of risk to their child, is relaxed about it? We close off stairways, move our cleaning products, lower the crib level, put covers on all our plugs. I watch Bella's mark and her facial movements. I listen to her breathing. I give her medicine. And when your baby nearly falls down the stairs, or you find them with an extra-strength Tylenol in their hand wet from having tasted it in the two seconds you were looking the other way (true story) there is a moment of total panic, even though nothing happened. Your brain reacts as though it did, for just a moment, and you're terrified. I've lived like this for a year in one degree or another and I'm not constantly panicked but I am tired of worrying. Bella's mark looks much redder at times, and every time, I wonder. I hope that after I put her down for a nap it'll look light again and I can breathe a small sigh of relief. It doesn't ruin my life, it's not the end of the world, but it is a lot for me. Maybe you'd deal with it better. I don't. I'm doing what I can. And right now, what I can do does not include being a bank teller. I should not feel guilty about that. But I do. Oh, I do.
"I should do more. Work, be a mom, keep the house cleaner."
Why? I'm not ambitious. I don't have any ideas of excelling at my career until I'm a manager or have a desk with my name on it. It's not who I am. Here's a secret. I'm not a bank teller. I work at a bank, or I did, until last year. It's a job that I go to and like, in exactly the same way I used to like serving tables (the enjoyment fades a lot more quickly with that one). In no way does it define me, in fact, some of the things I think define me are in opposition with the actual act of going to work nine-to-five. It's not me. I'd be much happier being a 1950's wife taking care of my kids and having dinner on the table. That doesn't make me less, but in today's day and age it means that I'm less of a woman. I'm letting down my gender by being so openly un-feminist. If I never had to work another day in my life, but was expected to do the housework and make dinner and do the grocery shopping, I would feel incredibly liberated. I'd even wear the apron and the cute little house dresses. Sounds perfect. Sorry to all those who marched and fought on my behalf to get me into the workplace and earning the same as a man. I kind of don't care. I kind of believe that this woman's place is at home, in front of the stove. Sorry.
Someone told me that I was choosing the difficult path, by staying home with Bella. He said that the wimpy thing to do, what a lot of people would do, would be to suck it up. They'd go back to work, and they'd be miserable and worried. He said that it takes a lot more courage to say that I'm not doing okay right now and I need to work on feeling better for myself and my family before I do anything else. It's a lot harder to be open with your struggles than it is to hide them and suck it up. I'm trying to honest with myself about who I am and where I am instead of constantly worrying about who I "should" be. The funny thing is that there's a lot of things that I've pushed myself to be that I actually dislike in others. There's a lot of things about myself that I've been trying to change that I really love in others.
I'm going to end here before this becomes a hippy post about loving myself and just being groovy or something. Besides, Backyardigans just ended and Bella's calling "up, up!!" from her excersaucer and throwing cheerios on the floor. She's ready for a cuddle and a nap, and so am I. I could use one, I'm tired.
I'm not heading back to work right now. Not because we're rolling in loot and don't need the money, but because I can't do it right now with Bella. After the year I've had, I just can't. I don't have it in me. I'm so incredibly tired, all the time. I'm so exhausted by looking at her mark and praying that it doesn't get worse. So I had to call work and tell them that I wasn't okay with coming back, and it was one of the harder things I've done in a long time. It was incredibly humiliating. Maybe it wouldn't be for you, but for me, it felt like calling in sick on a huge scale. I felt like I was letting everyone down. We could use the money - I was letting Peter down. We could use the benefits package - I was letting Bella down. It was a job I believed was a gift and one I liked - I was letting myself down. It was a job I was mildly good at - I was letting my boss down. I felt like a wimp. Like I should somehow figure out how to suck it up, and just be tougher.
Someone told me a while back that I use the phrase "I should" way more than I need to, and that every time I do it, I need to take a step back and ask myself why I think I "should" do what I'm berating myself for.
"I should be able to relax about Bella."
She is doing better all the time, but there is still a risk. What parent, with any level of risk to their child, is relaxed about it? We close off stairways, move our cleaning products, lower the crib level, put covers on all our plugs. I watch Bella's mark and her facial movements. I listen to her breathing. I give her medicine. And when your baby nearly falls down the stairs, or you find them with an extra-strength Tylenol in their hand wet from having tasted it in the two seconds you were looking the other way (true story) there is a moment of total panic, even though nothing happened. Your brain reacts as though it did, for just a moment, and you're terrified. I've lived like this for a year in one degree or another and I'm not constantly panicked but I am tired of worrying. Bella's mark looks much redder at times, and every time, I wonder. I hope that after I put her down for a nap it'll look light again and I can breathe a small sigh of relief. It doesn't ruin my life, it's not the end of the world, but it is a lot for me. Maybe you'd deal with it better. I don't. I'm doing what I can. And right now, what I can do does not include being a bank teller. I should not feel guilty about that. But I do. Oh, I do.
"I should do more. Work, be a mom, keep the house cleaner."
Why? I'm not ambitious. I don't have any ideas of excelling at my career until I'm a manager or have a desk with my name on it. It's not who I am. Here's a secret. I'm not a bank teller. I work at a bank, or I did, until last year. It's a job that I go to and like, in exactly the same way I used to like serving tables (the enjoyment fades a lot more quickly with that one). In no way does it define me, in fact, some of the things I think define me are in opposition with the actual act of going to work nine-to-five. It's not me. I'd be much happier being a 1950's wife taking care of my kids and having dinner on the table. That doesn't make me less, but in today's day and age it means that I'm less of a woman. I'm letting down my gender by being so openly un-feminist. If I never had to work another day in my life, but was expected to do the housework and make dinner and do the grocery shopping, I would feel incredibly liberated. I'd even wear the apron and the cute little house dresses. Sounds perfect. Sorry to all those who marched and fought on my behalf to get me into the workplace and earning the same as a man. I kind of don't care. I kind of believe that this woman's place is at home, in front of the stove. Sorry.
Someone told me that I was choosing the difficult path, by staying home with Bella. He said that the wimpy thing to do, what a lot of people would do, would be to suck it up. They'd go back to work, and they'd be miserable and worried. He said that it takes a lot more courage to say that I'm not doing okay right now and I need to work on feeling better for myself and my family before I do anything else. It's a lot harder to be open with your struggles than it is to hide them and suck it up. I'm trying to honest with myself about who I am and where I am instead of constantly worrying about who I "should" be. The funny thing is that there's a lot of things that I've pushed myself to be that I actually dislike in others. There's a lot of things about myself that I've been trying to change that I really love in others.
I'm going to end here before this becomes a hippy post about loving myself and just being groovy or something. Besides, Backyardigans just ended and Bella's calling "up, up!!" from her excersaucer and throwing cheerios on the floor. She's ready for a cuddle and a nap, and so am I. I could use one, I'm tired.
5:37 PM
I love you. I just read this and I have so much to say but not enough time now. I just wanted you to know, and that I love you. :)