Funky Town

No Flashback Friday this week. I realized that I'm just not a prolific enough blogger to write more than one post a week on a regular basis, so if I try to do a Flashback post every Friday then pretty soon that's all my blog will be. So the Flashback Fridays will continue, but just on a periodic basis.

Peter had an unexpected day off work today. Mostly because he's been working non-stop with conferences and retreats and homecoming events, etc., etc. It's a very busy time of year for him. Even now, as he's sitting on the couch with me, he's reading a book to help prepare for the next unit in his Pastoral Theology class. I think he enjoys this book though - so I suppose that makes it seem less like work. (Have I ever mentioned that it's really cool to be married to a theologian? Because it is. I highly recommend it. Just make sure you get a good one.)

Peter slept in (a little bit - our definition of sleeping in has changed soooo much in the last year) and I got to take a late morning nap. Then, in the afternoon, we got a babysitter for Eden and went to see a movie. We saw Where The Wild Things Are. I enjoyed it although it didn't really seem like a kids movie to me too much. I think all the monsters in the movie would have benefited from a good therapy session actually. But still, I enjoyed the film overall, and it was fun to chat about it with Peter over some Panda Express in the mall food-court afterward. We drove home, played with the munchkin and then put her to bed, and now, as previously mentioned, we're enjoying some relaxation on the couch. And it's not even the weekend yet! Next up: the pumpkin patch. Probably on Sunday. There will be pictures.

This has been kind of a weird week. I've been in a funk. Part of that has been from being a little sleep-deprived. (The cats are at it again. They've started waking me up at 4:30 or 4:45 am because they want me to feed them, and they will harass me and keep me awake until that happens. If I feed them, then I feel like I'm just perpetuating this problem forever, but ignoring them also doesn't work. They will keep me awake until Eden wakes up at some point during the 5 o'clock hour - either because of the rough phase of teething she's been going through or because of the noise the cats are making. Oh - and if you are wondering why we just don't close the bedroom door to keep the cats out - it's because they'll make enough noise meowing and scratching at the door to wake me up anyway (I've become an especially light sleeper since Eden was born), and they are also much more likely to wake Eden up too, as her door is right next to ours. Anyway, if any of you all know a cat whisperer, please send him/her our way.) I'm still trying to figure out the rest of it.

Awhile ago a friend of mine asked how I was liking being a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM). I don't remember exactly how I replied, but it was definitely something positive. My friend then said something about being in the SAHM honeymoon period, and I wondered if that was true. Working full-time was torturous after Eden was born (because of me, not because of the job, just to be clear). Being able to stay home with her has been wonderful. Like Christmas vacation when you're a kid. That's not to say it has been easy. I've been oh so tired so much of the time. In addition to just always needing sleep, I've also found myself tired of the limitations of her schedule, of changing diapers, of trying to be eternally patient, and of trying to entertain a baby who sometimes is just in a funk herself. It's been really hard and anything but fun at times. BUT, being here with her, my heart has felt full. That's the only way I know to say it. When I was at work, things never felt settled, I always felt a bit out-of-sorts and discombobulated - even on the best days. At home, even when nothing's going right, I've felt like I'm where I'm supposed to be. You can take a lot of crap if you feel settled inside yourself.

Anyway, so being in a funk this week had me remembering my friend's words and wondering again if they were true. Had I just been in the SAHM honeymoon period up to this point? Had that worn off? Was this weird down feeling a sign of things to come? Would I soon feel as discontented and dissatisfied being at home as I felt at work? Was it just me??

When things finally fell in place for me to be able to stay home, I immediately made plans and set goals. (Naturally. Because this is how I deal with my world.) I decided that I wanted to approach the SAHM thing like a job in a way. I wanted to make the most of my time with Eden. I wanted to be the best mom and wife and home-manager. I didn't want to treat my time at home like one big long weekend where we stayed in our pajamas watching mindless television for hours on end, while the trash overflowed and dishes piled up in the sink. (Erm, not to say that our weekends before Eden were ever like that. In any way. Yeah....) I wanted to be productive. I wanted Eden to have lots of stimulating activities and fun experiences and just lots of good old-fashioned play time with mommy. I wanted to keep up on the household chores and shopping and cooking so that those things wouldn't pile up on us and become a stressful mountain of never-ending to-do-lists, constantly hanging over our heads like they often have been before (ESPECIALLY while I was doing the full-time job thing). I wanted to make a home that was warm and peaceful and the kind of place you'd want to spend time in, and come back to, and go to sleep in every night. So I made goals and signed up for storytime and playgroups and tried to get and stay organized.

But I've discovered that this approach also has its drawbacks. If all that I'm trying to do as a mom is my "job" - then when exactly do the work hours end? With this approach the line between "working" and "resting" gets blurred. I'm working from the moment I wake up till I go to bed some days. I might get a few minutes of lunch or an hour or two before bed to do my own thing, but generally I still try to fill that with something "productive," whether it's dishes or laundry or the budget, or even reading parenting books or posting pictures to this blog. I've stopped reading for fun, I watch less than an hour of television most weeks, and I find myself wondering, wait - when am I done? Can I have a lunch hour? What about a 15 minute break? CAN I AT LEAST HAVE A 15 MINUTE BREAK?? IT'S MANDATED BY LAW, PEOPLE.

The other problem with the "job" approach is that I don't have a boss. Now that might not seem like a problem right off the bat. But bosses are there not only to distribute and oversee work, but also (hopefully) to keep their employees in good shape so-to-speak, so that they can continue to work and be productive. As already mentioned, no one's here making sure I get a lunch hour or breaks. No one is reviewing my goals to make sure they're reasonable and that I'm not trying to do too much too quickly. I don't have anyone to offer me guidance when I encounter unexpected or baffling problems (like a child who insists on trying to smear poop on herself and everything else every time we change her diaper). And, on the flip side, I don't have anyone holding me accountable. (Not to imply that Peter isn't supportive or involved, he's just simply not here during most of our day.)

Anyway, this post is way too long and way too rambley, but I think part of my funk this week stems from some of the disadvantages mentioned above. Goals are good, productivity is good, but I need to be able to relax in the midst of it too and remember that this ISN'T a job. No one is standing over me with a predetermined and set-in-stone job description which I must fulfill every second of every day. It's okay to be flexible and creative. Heck, it's probably okay to stay in our pajamas and watch hours of mindless television from time to time. Also, it would probably be a good thing if I worked out some clearly demarcated downtime on a regular basis. Time to not be productive or accomplish anything. I'm not sure how to do that, but I imagine it can be worked out somehow. The hardest part will not be setting the time but actually using it for its intended purpose without feeling guilty. And lastly, I also just need to practice developing the self-discipline so to accomplish the things that are important to me even if there is no one to hold me accountable. And that's just going to take time.

I still don't know if there is a honeymoon period to this whole SAHM business. And if there is, am I in it? Am I out of it? I don't know. I'm glad to be home though. So glad. It's not perfect. It's not problem-free. Poop is involved on a regular basis, in fact. But it's worth it. I'm absolutely, 100% confident of that.

Break's over, lady! Back to work.

True Confessions

These aren't pretty. Read at your own risk.

Since going back to work I usually get about 5 hours of sleep a night in 2 and 3 hour stretches. When people who know I have a baby ask how much sleep I'm getting and I tell them, they almost always comment on how good that is. True confession: I want to smack these people. I realize that it could be much worse. I personally know a lot of moms who have it much worse. In fact, I know a lot of people period who for various reasons only get that much sleep (or less) on a regular basis. But I feel terrible - physically, mentally, emotionally. Constantly. Is that really so great? Yes, it could be worse, and I'm very glad it's not. Yes, sleep deprivation is a well-known aspect of motherhood which I freely chose. And yes, it is absolutely, completely, 100% worth it, to get to be a mom. But to me, five hours of sleep is a burden that I continuously struggle to bear the best I can. And being congratulated on it is salt in the wound.

When I was a teenager I had to give my dog away because I couldn't take care of her well. (We rented our house and weren't allowed to have pets inside - and she was a breed of dog which needed a lot of attention and exercise which I was too busy to give her.) I still feel a ton of regret about that situation, and when I married Peter I told him we would NEVER get pets unless we were willing and able to take care of them no matter what for their entire lives. True confession: despite all that, I would probably give my two cats away today if I knew I could find them a good home. I love my cats. They have great personalities, and have brought us a lot of joy. And we've stuck firmly to our commitment to care for them: even when we moved to California and almost couldn't find an apartment that we could afford that would allow pets, and even when their food issues have meant regular loss of sleep. (They are big time over-eaters and will come wake me up very early every morning, basically begging for food.) But this morning, after they woke me up at 4:11 am and kept me awake until Eden woke up at 6:00 am, I reached a breaking point. Despite all my values and guilt and good intentions, I CANNOT take it anymore. I just don't have the reserves to care for them on top of everything else. And it's not their fault. And it's not fair. But they are currently at the bottom of my list of responsibilities and priorities, and I feel like something's got to give.

I just spent thousands of dollars getting a master's degree in a profession that's all about helping people. True confession: More often than not (and especially in the last year or two), I'm not sure I actually like helping people. I'm not sure I'm good at it either. I see others in my profession who are passionate about public service. They always seem to be patient and non-judgmental. They are great advocates for their patrons. But many of the people who come in to the library every day are mean, rude, impatient, lazy, and self-centered, and more and more it irks me to help them. I honestly don't know what to do about this. I don't know how to regain the positive and helpful attitude I had when I started my career.

While I'm sitting here typing this, the trashcan, sink, and Diaper Champ are overflowing. My microwave and kitchen counters are downright crusty. The bed is unmade. I get frustrated at my family for contributing to the above circumstances. I am jealous of moms who seem to be able to stay on top of all these things (and cook real dinners, and exercise, and spend time with friends). But I also assume that they must have some advantage that I don't (and I'm even more jealous of that advantage). I think I assume this just because it makes me feel less like a failure. Feel free to pick out the true confession of your choice there. :)

I'm sorry this post is such a downer. But let's be honest, if you know me at all you know I'm not exactly a happy-go-lucky personality - I'm much, much more of an Eeyore than a Tigger or Pooh. (Surprisingly, people - like many of you! - still choose to be my friend. Thanks for that! It means a lot to me.) If I was to list a last true confession I might make it that I can't decide if a tendency toward pessimism and Eeyore-ness is actually a bad thing. It's not a useful thing, for sure. I'm generally better off when I work at being positive and optimistic. But I can't decide if it's an actual flaw to be ruthlessly rooted out or just an amoral personality trait to accept without personal condemnation or judgment. The sticking point to me is this - the vast majority of people I know who are happy-go-lucky and generally optimistic, don't actually seem to work at it - it just comes naturally, like a tendency toward gregariousness or even athleticism. Where's the merit in that? I'm glad that they have traits that probably make life easier, but I'm not sure those traits could actually be considered virtues. Thus, I'm not sure it's accurate to label the opposite traits as flaws. But then again, I can also think of arguments for the reverse. So, I can never fully decide. If you have an opinion on this, feel free to leave a comment, because it's a topic I find rather curious.

And that's enough confessing for today. :)

The Week In Review

Here's our latest stats:

• 3 - number of times Eden has thrown up on me this week (according to our pediatrician she's a "happy spitter"). This kid's first chore is going to be laundry.
  
• 1 - number of leaky diapers (but it was on Peter this time - way to go, baby!!)
• 28 - number of days it took for Eden's umbilical cord stump to fall off (it fell off yesterday - I was beginning to wonder...)
• 16 - number of ounces Eden has gained in the last 2 weeks
• 2 - number of treats required to lure Sheba and Pudge out from under the crib this morning (their new favorite place to sleep)
• 1,378,902 - approximate number of times I've worried about something today alone probably (still working on this, people)
• 0 - number of new pictures posted to this blog (so sorry, I have new pictures and video but they're all still on the camera)
  
• 1 - how many months old Eden is today (congratulations, baby!)

I'll work on getting some pictures/video up soon. Hope you all are doing well!

Adjustments

Well, this is going to have to be very short - but I know I haven't posted in awhile and wanted to get something up. Things here in the Hough House are going well - I think. I've decided that probably the hardest part about this new parent business is that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing or what's normal. So far it seems like Eden is playing the role of newborn perfectly - lots of sleeping, eating, diaper dirtying, and crying. I guess in a way I am also filling the new parent role to a T in that I spend a big chunk of my time worrying about everything - mostly because everything is new to me, and I have no idea what normal is supposed to be. Is she sleeping too little, too much? Does she eat enough? Is she crying because she's about to die or is she just crying because she's a baby and that's what babies do? That's a pretty broad spectrum of possibilities to choose from and it seems like most of my day is spent trying to make judgment calls about what is normal - and hoping that I'm right or at least right enough to not cause or allow any serious harm to come to her. Anyway, in the end, I think the hardest part of adjusting to my new role as a parent is the mental/emotional energy required in all this constant evaluation and decision-making - the sleep-deprivation and inconsolable crying aren't actually as tiring as the worrying about the crying (or the eating, or sleeping, or whatever). Peter, as always, has been wonderful just in his ability to not worry and to share that sense of calm with me when he comes home from work everyday - otherwise I'd probably be going crazy.

On a side note, the cats seem to have adjusted quickly to Eden. Sheba, as expected, is utterly bored and uninterested unless food is somehow involved. Pudge runs away when Eden cries sometimes, but also often seems very curious about what she's doing - he'll regularly come up and sniff her head or peek in at her when she's in her bassinet or bouncy chair. The most amazing thing is how quickly the cats have realized how much more freedom they have to misbehave now. They definitely know that when I'm holding Eden I'm much less likely to get up and chase them away from doing something bad - so they'll pretend to not hear me yelling at them and go right on trying to chew through the aluminum foil to the plate of brownies or scratching the couch, for example.

One funny story before I go: a few nights ago I woke up in the middle of the night to feed Eden and while I was busy doing so, Pudge decided to see if the side of the bassinet was a nice thing to scratch his claws on. I yelled at him, which he ignored. So to get his attention, I grabbed an empty Kleenex box by my chair and tossed it on to the floor next to him, hoping to startle him and get him to stop. It worked, not because he was startled, but because he immediately became interested in playing with the empty box. Fast-forward 30 seconds, and I'm chasing Pudge around the living room and kitchen with Eden hanging on in one arm as I try to get the Kleenex box unstuck from his head. One of those moments that's funny later.