Friday, February 24, 2012
eight weeks in
The mornings are a flurry of busyness, trying to get everyone up and ready and out the door. We all go our separate ways and run, run, run at our respective jobs all day. (Assuming we stay there all day. Mason's already been sent home early from his job twice for sicknesses: cough/congestion and eye discharge that turned out to be a symptom of a double ear infection. And wouldn't you know it that both times he was sent home fell on Thursdays, my teaching day? Ugh!) I pick up Mason in the evenings and deal with Mr. Grumpy (because he hasn't slept much) for an hour or so before starting the night-night routine. Brad, if he's lucky, races in just in time to kiss Mason goodnight. Brad and I stumble wearily downstairs, clean dirty bottles, assemble clean bottles, make bottles for the next day, and deal with expressed breast milk. If we're lucky, we shovel in some dinner, unload and load the dishwasher, make our own lunches for the next day, fall into bed, and get up to do it all over again.
I am exhausted. But, I know that if I stayed home with Mason all day every day, I'd feel just as weary. Having a young child equals fatigue--there's no way around it.
My semester is in full swing. My days are busy and under former circumstances, they would be flying by. But, they drag on because my mind and heart are elsewhere. I miss my baby. Being separated from him nine or more hours a day and only seeing him awake (and if it's in the evenings, he's tired and fussy) for an hour or two is tough. Somehow, I thought that I would miss him less as time went on, but that hasn't happened. Brad and I try to make the most of our weekend time with Mason because we hardly see him during the week.
Juggling my job, marriage, and family is a lesson in humility for this former perfectionist. I used to think I had it all (mostly) together. Now, I feel like I'm not doing anything well. I go through the motions, but have moments when I feel seriously inadequate as a mother, wife, friend, and employee. Mommy guilt constantly lurks over my shoulder. Brad and I are sometimes like two ships crossing in the night because we are so busy and exhausted. I love my friends, but please tell me, how do I fit them in? I used to care deeply about my work. Now, for the moment at least, it is a necessary evil.
Imperfect is my new perfect, at least for this season.