Lately I feel like I have really strong reactions, in my head, to things. Knowing that a lot of it is probably "just hormones" (I really hate that phrase), I try to keep it inside. Then I spend a lot of time feeling sorry for myself for not sticking up for me and saying what I think etc. I also feel like I complain more than ever now. So, I'm hesitant to start talking about what I was going to blog about.
On the other hand, in an effort to clear the cobwebs and get my head on straight and really just to discuss what's going on in my life, I thought I'd just start typing. So, here's my big announcement (perhaps as much to myself, having been in denial and anger and now perhaps getting ready for acceptance- did I get the steps right?)... at the end of February, Jeff and I will be moving into his Dad's house. We actually were trying to do it sooner, but the fees and consequences of breaking our lease were more than the cost and consequences of finishing it out.
So, who lives at Jeff's dad's house? His dad and step mom and 13 year old half brother. And the step mom's mom and two 17 year old brothers. Three dogs (if chihuahuas really count as dogs) and two cats. And, until recently, some turtles and snakes and who knows what else? They have a good sized room in the basement for us that is a bit away from everyone so hopefully we will have some privacy.
I don't want to sound ungrateful because I'm certainly glad they're willing to help us out, but I am scared to death of this move. The first time or two we talked seriously about it, I just cried. Perhaps it sounds worldly but the thought of really living with someone else and their rules and ways of doing things and packing all my stuff away in storage, made me feel like I would just disappear. I told Jeff, how can I be the wife and mother when I don't even get to decide what's for dinner?
I will note here that a time or two, I've felt a very reassuring feeling of "don't be so afraid; this is how you'll get to be home with your baby." I've held onto that like a life line, but some days, even that doesn't feel like a reality. I told Jeff that I will not work and leave my baby just so I can live in the basement of someone else's house. I hope he gets that.
I'm also afraid that Jeff will go and forget that he's the dad and the husband and he'll feel like one of the 17 year old boys and just want to play games with them all the time. I told him he can't forget me. I've heard that president Kimball said it's not good for a couple to live with their parents; that they need to be independent as much as possible. I worry we won't be grown up married people, but more like roommates and children.
My parents have also offered us a room at their house. I love my old bedroom, but it is small and more in the main part of the house. Jeff is probably right in thinking that we couldn't fit and would have no privacy. I would worry all the time that he would be feeling like I'm afraid I'm going to feel. But I would be much more comfortable living with my mom and Khrys than a bunch of stinky boys. Especially once my baby gets here.
Another concern is that just after the baby comes, everyone, including his step mom, will be out of school for the summer. I will never have any time to myself. How am I supposed to learn to be a mom when I'm constantly being bombarded by people and barely have a spot to call my own?
I worry about things before that as simple as when I'll get to take a shower and go the bathroom. I don't know if I remember how to live around people like that and I've never had to do it with people I don't know really well.
What really bothers me is that I keep blaming myself. Did I make a wrong choice somewhere? Am I not doing good enough- with our finances, with working, with... I don't know, whatever- to keep us out of this mess? And I can't help fearing that if Jeff really wanted to be a grown up and married and have a baby, he wouldn't be so willing to do this. Like I feel like he's retreating and I'm just going along stupidly, thinking he wants me there.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Poor Jeffrey
Jeff went to the dentist yesterday. He's been having teeth pain for a while and since all my insurance changed with the new year, we figured we'd wait for that to kick in. Then we thought we'd wait until we got the cards for the dental stuff (still waiting). Then we thought we better just call them and get him in! They took an x-ray and told him exactly what he already felt was happening. He ended up having to have two teeth pulled!
On the bottom, he had a wisdom tooth that was tipped. It was pushing on the other teeth, making his jaw and whole head hurt. It was also starting to get a bit infected underneath it. Because it was tipping, it was also rubbing against a top tooth. The top tooth was half way gone! The part that was left had quite a cavity. When they pulled the top tooth, it broke a bit of his bone and they had to pull that out.
The dentist said he could recommend an oral surgeon and they could do root canals on both teeth to try to save them, but they usually didn't do that for a wisdom tooth. I guess they would do that so the top tooth wouldn't have a hole to rub into and cause some kind of the same problem on the bottom as he had on the top. My thought, and Jeff's too, was that there wasn't enough of the top tooth worth saving. Then what would they have to do!? And I've never heard anything good about root canals. Because they were in the back and wouldn't affect his smile :) and also because he didn't want to wait any more time and deal with pain, Jeff opted to have them both pulled.
I was there through the whole thing. Am I getting good mothering experience or what!? It's horrible to watch someone you love go through pain and discomfort and fear. I rubbed his ankles like my mommy always did for me when I went to the dentist. It was all over fairly quickly. Once again, I think the shots were the worst part for him.
When I went to bed last night, he said that all the pressure and pain in his jaw that he'd felt that morning was gone. Today he's sore, but at least it's recovering soreness and he should be better in a day or two.
On the bottom, he had a wisdom tooth that was tipped. It was pushing on the other teeth, making his jaw and whole head hurt. It was also starting to get a bit infected underneath it. Because it was tipping, it was also rubbing against a top tooth. The top tooth was half way gone! The part that was left had quite a cavity. When they pulled the top tooth, it broke a bit of his bone and they had to pull that out.
The dentist said he could recommend an oral surgeon and they could do root canals on both teeth to try to save them, but they usually didn't do that for a wisdom tooth. I guess they would do that so the top tooth wouldn't have a hole to rub into and cause some kind of the same problem on the bottom as he had on the top. My thought, and Jeff's too, was that there wasn't enough of the top tooth worth saving. Then what would they have to do!? And I've never heard anything good about root canals. Because they were in the back and wouldn't affect his smile :) and also because he didn't want to wait any more time and deal with pain, Jeff opted to have them both pulled.
I was there through the whole thing. Am I getting good mothering experience or what!? It's horrible to watch someone you love go through pain and discomfort and fear. I rubbed his ankles like my mommy always did for me when I went to the dentist. It was all over fairly quickly. Once again, I think the shots were the worst part for him.
When I went to bed last night, he said that all the pressure and pain in his jaw that he'd felt that morning was gone. Today he's sore, but at least it's recovering soreness and he should be better in a day or two.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Control Yourself
I had the thought this morning on the way to work, "that would probably be for the best." What was I thinking about? How to do my hair! Does that even make any sense? Does anyone else sense the sadness in that statement? I was thinking about hair and was trying to settle on what would be the most practical and make the most sense. Not having fun. Not expressing myself. Not looking pretty. Just practical.
I was a bit stressed this morning. I'm leaving work a bit early and had set my alarm earlier than usual so I could try to get here a bit early and not use up so much personal time. Luckily (?) for me, when the alarm went off, I had to go the bathroom bad enough, it wasn't hard to get up. I had slept well and thought I was off to a good start. But...
The poor dog. She's scared of going outside and since I got pregnant, I generally just stand at the bottom of the stairs and let her go (or hope Jeff is up and will take her). It's taken some coaxing since her accident to get her to do this, but in the quiet morning she's been doing okay... until lately. This morning, she would not go. I even put on slippers and a jacket knowing it's been hard and planning on walking out with her (and no, I didn't use the leash because I was afraid I was too weak and she'd just pull me over. It was a genuine concern). We got about half way up more than a time or two before she bolted back down and into the apartment. I lost all patience with her. I know, and knew in the moment even, that it was other things bothering me, but I just didn't have the time or strength or patience to deal with her. She had been asking to go out so I knew she needed to and I finally pretty much dragged her up the stairs and convinced her she was safe if she stayed real close to the building on the grass with me standing there.
And, poor Jeff. He has been struggling with a tooth ache and it's getting bad enough it makes his whole head hurt. He is back on his "graveyard shift" schedule and didn't go to bed until 5 this morning. He couldn't sleep because his head and teeth hurt and his legs were twitching. So, what did I spend my extra half hour or so doing this morning? Rubbing his legs and dealing with the dog.
I was barely making it out of the house at my normal time when I remembered I still had to take some rent stuff up to the office. Poor me! I feel like I have to do everything. And this extra two minutes felt like it would make me even later!
And that was my frustration this morning. I just keep feeling like I'm doing everything. I know I shouldn't express all this crap here. And it really isn't personal toward anyone. Work has been crappy lately- I'm SO tired of some of the people/issues I deal with and the demands that are made on me. I'm frustrated with myself and my lack of assertiveness and ability to stick up for myself. I get sad when Jeff is up all night and things are not going productively for him. I get annoyed at the sweet dog who is sometimes so needy and demanding when I'm feeling needy and demanding. My legs have been cramping incredibly bad and often and all anyone, including the doctor, can tell me is it's normal and try eating bananas and getting more calcium. Nothing's working that way and the dog doesn't make a good masseuse. Jeff does, when he feels like it or isn't distracted etc.
Okay, enough complaining. And onto the real point...
After dropping the rent stuff at the office, I got in the car. I recently found a tape I have of only two songs that lately are my all time favorites (I say that about all songs I like a lot :) I think they call these tapes "singles" and Jeff didn't even know what that was or why they would make a tape with only two songs. And yes, I still don't have a CD player in my car and I actually don't care). The one song just makes me happy. As I pulled out of the parking lot I thought, "maybe I should just quit caring." This thought was followed by the question "why do you care so much?"
Mostly I was thinking about work. If I didn't get here early but got here at my regular time, so what? Why was I stressing so much about it? Why was I making that more important than anything else I had to do today? It didn't even make any sense. And if I just let go of it, a lot of the tension and "freak out"-ness I was feeling could just go away.
I'm not going to tell you what song I was listening to because I need it to be mine, not out there for judgement. That's not to say you will judge me, but more like I judge myself, which is the point of this post.
It doesn't matter what I do with my hair. It doesn't matter that this song makes me happy. It doesn't matter if I'm early or on time for work. Why do I make all these things into something practical? What if I just stopped and enjoyed... myself? the music? the dog and husband?
I feel like I don't even know how. I'm so trying to be in control and in charge of all these things with the ever present thought of "doing the right thing." And, as with this morning, that doesn't even make sense! The right thing with my hair? The right thing getting to work early? None of it matters!
What would happen if I let go of a bit of control? I don't think I'm a control freak- like I don't want to boss people around and I don't insist on having things my way- but in my own way I am. I've read about eating disorders and girls who get them are just trying to have some semblance of control (perhaps ownership?) in their own lives. That's what it is for me. Some sort of dependability, sanity, things being safe. I'm also gravely afraid that I'll mess everything up and ruin everything and get in trouble. So, I try always to do the right thing. I think I've loosened up when I say the "right" thing has at least softened to the most "practical." But still, be in control. Follow the rules, the schedule, the plan... and when that doesn't work? Kick the dog, be mad at the husband, berate myself.
What if I just want to be happy?
I was a bit stressed this morning. I'm leaving work a bit early and had set my alarm earlier than usual so I could try to get here a bit early and not use up so much personal time. Luckily (?) for me, when the alarm went off, I had to go the bathroom bad enough, it wasn't hard to get up. I had slept well and thought I was off to a good start. But...
The poor dog. She's scared of going outside and since I got pregnant, I generally just stand at the bottom of the stairs and let her go (or hope Jeff is up and will take her). It's taken some coaxing since her accident to get her to do this, but in the quiet morning she's been doing okay... until lately. This morning, she would not go. I even put on slippers and a jacket knowing it's been hard and planning on walking out with her (and no, I didn't use the leash because I was afraid I was too weak and she'd just pull me over. It was a genuine concern). We got about half way up more than a time or two before she bolted back down and into the apartment. I lost all patience with her. I know, and knew in the moment even, that it was other things bothering me, but I just didn't have the time or strength or patience to deal with her. She had been asking to go out so I knew she needed to and I finally pretty much dragged her up the stairs and convinced her she was safe if she stayed real close to the building on the grass with me standing there.
And, poor Jeff. He has been struggling with a tooth ache and it's getting bad enough it makes his whole head hurt. He is back on his "graveyard shift" schedule and didn't go to bed until 5 this morning. He couldn't sleep because his head and teeth hurt and his legs were twitching. So, what did I spend my extra half hour or so doing this morning? Rubbing his legs and dealing with the dog.
I was barely making it out of the house at my normal time when I remembered I still had to take some rent stuff up to the office. Poor me! I feel like I have to do everything. And this extra two minutes felt like it would make me even later!
And that was my frustration this morning. I just keep feeling like I'm doing everything. I know I shouldn't express all this crap here. And it really isn't personal toward anyone. Work has been crappy lately- I'm SO tired of some of the people/issues I deal with and the demands that are made on me. I'm frustrated with myself and my lack of assertiveness and ability to stick up for myself. I get sad when Jeff is up all night and things are not going productively for him. I get annoyed at the sweet dog who is sometimes so needy and demanding when I'm feeling needy and demanding. My legs have been cramping incredibly bad and often and all anyone, including the doctor, can tell me is it's normal and try eating bananas and getting more calcium. Nothing's working that way and the dog doesn't make a good masseuse. Jeff does, when he feels like it or isn't distracted etc.
Okay, enough complaining. And onto the real point...
After dropping the rent stuff at the office, I got in the car. I recently found a tape I have of only two songs that lately are my all time favorites (I say that about all songs I like a lot :) I think they call these tapes "singles" and Jeff didn't even know what that was or why they would make a tape with only two songs. And yes, I still don't have a CD player in my car and I actually don't care). The one song just makes me happy. As I pulled out of the parking lot I thought, "maybe I should just quit caring." This thought was followed by the question "why do you care so much?"
Mostly I was thinking about work. If I didn't get here early but got here at my regular time, so what? Why was I stressing so much about it? Why was I making that more important than anything else I had to do today? It didn't even make any sense. And if I just let go of it, a lot of the tension and "freak out"-ness I was feeling could just go away.
I'm not going to tell you what song I was listening to because I need it to be mine, not out there for judgement. That's not to say you will judge me, but more like I judge myself, which is the point of this post.
It doesn't matter what I do with my hair. It doesn't matter that this song makes me happy. It doesn't matter if I'm early or on time for work. Why do I make all these things into something practical? What if I just stopped and enjoyed... myself? the music? the dog and husband?
I feel like I don't even know how. I'm so trying to be in control and in charge of all these things with the ever present thought of "doing the right thing." And, as with this morning, that doesn't even make sense! The right thing with my hair? The right thing getting to work early? None of it matters!
What would happen if I let go of a bit of control? I don't think I'm a control freak- like I don't want to boss people around and I don't insist on having things my way- but in my own way I am. I've read about eating disorders and girls who get them are just trying to have some semblance of control (perhaps ownership?) in their own lives. That's what it is for me. Some sort of dependability, sanity, things being safe. I'm also gravely afraid that I'll mess everything up and ruin everything and get in trouble. So, I try always to do the right thing. I think I've loosened up when I say the "right" thing has at least softened to the most "practical." But still, be in control. Follow the rules, the schedule, the plan... and when that doesn't work? Kick the dog, be mad at the husband, berate myself.
What if I just want to be happy?
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