Blowing Raspberries

My blog feels a little dead, I will admit that. My mom was visiting, and with my husband’s homecoming breathing down my neck, I’ve been doing my best to stay busy. In the haze of activity, the bumble butt has been sleep regressing and teething and reaching a new, small developmental milestone each day. It’s amazing.

There is something magical about watching a tiny human grow up before your eyes. To go from the newborn days of the eat/sleep/poop/cry cycle, to a baby that is rolling over and laughing, scooting in circles on the floor and blowing raspberries. I didn’t think my blog would be consumed by baby talk once the little man was here, but it’s kind of hard to not talk about him. His sometimes happy, sometimes grumpy face is the first thing I see every morning, and the last thing I see at night. Make that multiple times a night.

Raspberries

I bought a camcorder, to capture all these little memories, and it was definitely one of those purchases that made me feel old. I mean, I can vaguely remember the boom-box sized camcorder my parents used to record my antics as a kid back in the 90’s… and the fact that my size reference is an out-dated music player kind of seals the deal. I somehow went from being a kid myself, to having one, in what feels like no time at all. Anyway.. I can hear the little dragon stirring from his nap.

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Searching for Normal

It’s been a hard day for no particular reason at all.. Elliott actually slept really well last night. Settled by 11pm and pulled out two, three hour blocks of sleep in a row. That’s a major accomplishment for a mostly, formerly day/night confused baby.. He’s slowly getting the hang of things.

There’s almost an anxiety knowing tomorrow will be mostly the same as today, and I’m not sure if it makes me a “bad mom” to admit that. It’s all the same though. Feed baby, change baby, talk to baby, tummy time, nap time, attempt to put baby in swing/bouncer/bassinet so that I can eat or clean and wait for the 5-10 minutes to pass before he’s screaming his head off to be picked up again. This all seemed so much easier when my mom was here. It was easier when she was here, and it would be easier if my husband were here. Someone to take turns holding him when he just wants to cuddle, someone to help with errands (even sometimes) or to help keep the house picked up. I’m searching for normal, searching for a routine even though I know the bumble butt is too young for routines..

It’s hard not feeling like I’m not enough, not doing enough. Not taking enough pictures, or reading him enough books or just remembering enough. Where did the past almost six weeks go? Is it okay that for the most part I hardly remember any of it? How can I possibly share this experience with my husband in any way, if I can’t remember what happened last week? I have just been so tired and caught up in the whirlwind of it all..

I’m sure I will look back in a few weeks, or months and be able to tell myself that I was doing alright…but for today it’s hard to not feel like I’m failing.

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It Comes with a Price

Nothing seems to be coming easy to me lately, and it’s all a frustrating and pointless struggle to stay emotionally afloat during this deployment. There’s this song that goes, “am I supposed to be happy, when all I ever wanted, it comes with a price?” May be a bit of an immature point to conclude, but it fits. I feel like every good thing in my life is shrouded under some little black cloud of darkness. It leads me to feeling blessed but very, very unlucky.

It’s been two months to the day that they left, almost nine calendar weeks. It feels like months longer than that. And it will be months longer until they get to come home again. I don’t know why this deployment feels so different than previous underways or separations that we’ve had, and we’ve had more than our fair share. Before we got engaged we spent eight months apart. After we got engaged, we spent the six months before our wedding apart. After we were married, we spent six weeks apart while I finished up my college degree. We were together roughly three months this year, of which only two were mostly consecutive in terms of weeks spent at home. And we fought all the time.

This year has been rough on our marriage, but it’s been worse on our friendship. And now that he’s gone and getting into the “swing” of life away, I just feel like *our life* has been put on pause from his end… but I’m still here living it alone. I’m still having our baby in a few weeks. I’m still keeping up with our house and our bills and pretending that the bed doesn’t feel so empty when I go to sleep at night.

It’s so hard having to remind myself that this isn’t a permanent situation, that I’m doing this alone but I am not exactly a single mother, that I do still have a husband, somewhere, on the other side of the world. When emails are few and far in between and even those that get through don’t say what I need to hear.. When my midwife rambles on about how new dads get involved at the hospital and I have to stop her because he won’t be there. When I have to wonder how old our son will be when he meets his daddy for the first time. When I let myself think how epically unfair this whole situation is, and how no one who hasn’t been exactly where I am right now could possibly know.

I don’t know how to find resolution. I’ve tried prayer. I’ve tried distracting myself with crafts, friends, plain ignorance but none of those things last very long.

Limitless and Immeasurable

Before starting this blog, I had forgotten how much I like writing just to write. It’s like talking just to hear your own voice, except these words are rarely spoken aloud unless I am proofreading. I kept journals all through high school and college for the same reason. It’s not that I think what I have to say is particularly important or needs to be shared, but that I like blabbing about things; about anything really.

Seeing what I think and feel, or rather articulating what I think and feel, helps me understand myself and where I am coming from. It helps close some of the windows that keep popping up in my life. To get that, you probably have to have heard the analogy of our brains being just like computers. For the most part, men can just “X” out of windows whenever they like. When they are done thinking about something they close the window and they move on. Women, on the other hand, can only usually minimize the window and like an overloaded computer, the windows sometimes pop back up or become frozen and thus demand attention. I find this analogy works very well for me, and most people I know. You may find yourself to be different, and should probably consider yourself lucky.

Lately, a particular phrase keeps popping up in my  mind. Actually, its more of a quote type thing that I thought while driving to pick Logan up from work one day, and quickly wrote in a note on my phone.

“Overwhelmed by the thought that adult life is often limitless and immeasurable.”

Have you ever felt that way? ………. The more I think about it, the more true it becomes and the better it represents my attitude towards life at the current time. As kids, there was always school; homework, papers to be written, assignments to be done. When we accomplished those small goals, they amounted to moving on to the next grade, the next school, the next step. But after college, and besides intra-work promotions, what kind of grading system is there? For someone like me, who thrives under stress and structure, where can I find that sort of motivation? There doesn’t seem to be any.

Being an adult is at it’s core, limitless. I could do whatever I want – and of course there are those things that I should do, like get a job; and there are those things that I could do, like have a baby; and then there are those things that I have already done, such as buy a house and get a puppy. But there is no one to say what I have to do anymore, except for me, except for maybe standards and guidelines set forth by God and my peers, but really those are all up to my interpretation anyway.

And how do measure the accomplishments of adulthood anyway? You don’t get a fancy certificate saying “Congratulations, you bought a house!”…or anything of that sort. Where is my Life tile that rewards me with $200,000 when I retire because I graduated from college. Why can’t having kids be as simple as picking a card from a deck and finding out we’re having twin boys? It’s weird and probably only something I take time to consider, but who is to say how I should or could better spend this sunny afternoon, where I have a bit of headache and a mind full of thoughts? There is no one.

Peace, love and happy wondering wherever you are, from me,

Too Much

I have too much to say; too much on my mind. It’s just about nine right now, and I have to be at ┬áthe Seattle-Tacoma airport at 11:30ish tonight to pick up my mom. I had mentioned before that she is staying with me for ten days to help me move and get settled into the house and those ten days start tonight, technically.

I still need the sheets to finish drying and make up the bed and put the dishes away that are drying on the dish rack. It’s funny, growing up my mom would always freak out when my grandma was coming to visit and I never understood why everything had to be super clean and organized. Obviously my grandma raised my mom, so she must have known my mom wasn’t that organized… but knowing that my mom was coming, I made sure both the house and apartment looked the best they could! It was like a compulsion.. And it was no easy task to accomplish because I’m basically living in two places.

Today was a hard day otherwise.. Logan is in Hawaii for the weekend and should be back in Washington very early in March. I foolishly expected him to text or call more than he seemed to want to and today just didn’t go how I expected. Sighs.. being a Navy wife is definitely taking some getting used to… and realizing that my husband WILL act different around different people and realizing that I don’t always like my husband. I think that’s the thing about marriage even more so than dating; not liking your significant other is not reason to run away. You have to work it out. And when the person you’re married to runs away, it hurts, because you’re left there alone, holding your relationship together.

Blah, blah, I don’t know. I’ve got my cup of coffee and Kitchen Nightmares on Hulu.com to keep me company for the next hour until I have to leave.

 

Something to Obsess Over

My mind is going about a thousand miles a minute right now!! It is almost one in the morning as I type this, so I should be asleep. If not resting peacefully, then having another weird dream, like the dreams I have had the past few nights (about caring for abandoned kittens, a crazy lady from Texas and creepy houses on a hill). Instead, I’m out in the living room, trying to keep the cats calm because they also seem to be wired; knocking things down and racing from the bedroom to the kitchen and back again.

I don’t know what my deal is, but I can’t seem to calm down for even a second. My mind is running in circles about things that aren’t even relevant to my life right now, or don’t even matter all that much. Like what, you may be wondering..? Well, strollers, for one thing, and I’m not even pregnant! Wondering when it will finally be MY TURN. Thinking how depressing it can be living in an apartment that is still 60% in boxes, even if the boxes are left unpacked by choice.

And that brings my frantic mind to all sorts of unpleasant thoughts about the house we are trying to buy. We haven’t heard anything from our real estate guy since last Monday or Tuesday. The only contact we had with our lender in the past week was making sure to get “the correct verbage” on the power of attorney I will now have to use to buy the house. And then there’s the little hiccup that the sellers were supposed to fix a few things – as part of our deal – before the appraisal was done. But the snow storm seems to have pushed everything back. Not sure when the appraisal will be, but the 10 day window set aside for that, is all but up. Not sure if it will even appraise well, given that those things aren’t fixed and I am honestly starting to think the sellers are going to try to ruin the deal by not fixing things that could make the appraisal fail. So I guess I am overwhelmed, but it feels like so much more than that.

This feels like the calm before the storm. I tend to think in black and white and it feels like we are set up so that everything could go great, or everything could go horribly wrong in the next three weeks…. But as Logan likes to remind me, at least we still get a puppy. Only 31 days until he comes home with me.