I keep thinking about sitting down and just writing here, letting you all know what’s going on in our lives, my head, etc, but I am continually plagued with insecurity. You see, I worry that the only reason anyone reads this blog is to get photos and anecdotes of Charles. I don’t want to rant too much about my life in case you all think I am crazy, or depressed, or WORSE, you all get bored and never come back.
It might be better if I had time for two blogs, and if I could then split readers into two groups: those of you who want the Charles-centric blog, and the rest, who care to read my awful prose (I’ve no illusions about myself as a creative writer, but I do know I can beat the hell out of an academic paper) about my life and feelings. But I don’t have time for two, so I’ll give some updates here and add some photos and hopefully please everyone. Or no one, that could happen.
It’s tax season, and those of you who don’t work 80+ hours a week for three solid months or have spouses who do cannot possibly understand what that means (though I appreciate sympathy). There have been days this month during which I have actually been envious of my friend whose husband works/lives in Auburn 5 days a week because at least she gets to see him on the weekends. I am jealous that she doesn’t have to do her husband’s laundry and she doesn’t have to cook for him every night, but she still gets to have someone to go to Costco with her on Saturday, to stay up late watching a movie with her at least once a week.
It’s exhausting. And tax season is so drawn-out. A business trip is one thing to live through, but three months is LONG. Some days I wonder if it wouldn’t be easier to always be a single mom, because then I wouldn’t have the expectation of a husband, ever, whereas this way, I get used to having a true partner throughout the year and then have to give that up cold-turkey for a few months (single moms out there, please don’t think that I am saying your job is easy – I know that’s NOT true). I have these holdover expectations of life from the rest of the year that just won’t work right now. My yard cannot be kept groomed because I just can’t weed in the dark. The vacuum cannot be run after Charles goes to bed. I can only fold so many loads of laundry each night. Blogging will be done when I get the chance, not the inspiration. The dog will have to get his exercise from walks tethered to the stroller, not extended playtime. Sigh.
Tony has been really great and dedicated to us, and for that I am so thankful. Not only does he work hard so that we can live the lives we do, but he does come home almost every night for dinner and to put Charles to bed. He empties the dishwasher and does other chores when he can (not often, but every bit helps!). I know this is as hard on him as it is on me. In years past, I could go to girlfriends’ houses, call on any number of backup husbands to take me out, and more, but now I am pretty much stuck. And it seems so stupid to pay a babysitter for a night out alone.
Mostly, though, I’m really tired. Charles likes to get up early. And Tony and I used to trade off on the weekends; he would sleep in Saturday, I would sleep in Sunday, and then switch the next weekend. Not so anymore, now that Tony goes into work by 8 no matter what.
So mostly I read and watch movies, do chores, and sleep when I can. I just finished an amazing book called Nurtureshock that I wish everyone would read so I could discuss it with someone. I ordered a couple of copies from Amazon today. I think I’ll loan one to Charles’ daycare director. It will certainly change the way I relate to Charles and any future children, and it will change how I interpret his actions. Every bit of that book, from the preface to the conclusion, was riveting and insightful.
Well, here are your gratuitous Charles photos. Isn’t he adorable?
He has three molars now, which are coming in slowly and causing us both grief.
This next one is from when he fell asleep in the jogging stroller a couple weeks ago as I slogged through a couple of miles with Buster in tow. Who knew jogging could be soporific?
Finally, here is Charles outside in his new, green boots. Adorable! Why don’t they make them in my size?