Monday, October 19, 2015

A cry.

In the months since having my third child, I feel like I say -  and do - everything wrong. I don't think I had this quality before, but now it seems to be the one that shines the brightest from my personality, and I don't know why. I lose patience when I shouldn't. Sometimes, I expertly maintain my patience, but then I feel  I've done that wrong too.  I get anxiety over not getting it all done. Anxiety creeps in when I feel like I need help, so I don't ask. Then I take offense when someone offers it, like they're offering their help because they know I certainly can't manage to do it on my own. I know that this is illogical. Anxiety does not.

I was a stay at home mom for years. I feel like I forgot how to be that this time around. I can't keep the baby happy and keep my daily life intact simultaneously. Preparing dinner sounds like an unimaginable feat most days. I am grateful for my husband's help in this matter, but I am guilty. I cannot do this all on my own, but I used to be able to. I used to do this every single day with a husband that was frequently gone. Now I have a husband that helps daily and is home for dinner nightly (after all, we might not eat otherwise). Still, everything is harder. I don't know why. I accomplish things that seem like a big deal (laundry! sweeping! both of those things in the same day!), but at the end of the day, I realize these are not big things. These are things everyone else does daily too, without feeling like they've accomplished the impossible.

I am emotional. I need reassurance more than I should. I need hugs from my family or my many pieces of anxiety will crumble me. I am always on the defense. I can't let my guard down. This is not me, but touch helps this. Being a mom is really hard. During the day, when it's just Lyric and me here, there's a lot of crying that goes on. And it's not always the baby.

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