Last night wasn’t as rough as the one before. Sure, I woke up at 2 AM, after a few hours of sleep here and there, and felt wide awake. I sat on the couch and watched silent television, drifting off sitting straight up for another hour and a half. The combination of the humidifier, Breathe Right strips, and Tylenol sinus congestion and pain (nighttime) helped a lot. I nearly started going down the spaz out path, though. I managed to hold it together until this morning. I was in the shower and Ash said how proud he was of me for being positive in trying new tactics for sleep and not losing my mind, like I had before. And that is when I lost it. I had to cry; it had been too long and the weight of all these extra jobs and this third, final, and most daunting pregnancy has been breaking me down. I try very hard to be stoic and hide all of this; I have to stay strong for so many people: my myriad of students, my husband, the children.
I get into this mode where I feel so put out and unfairly attacked by so many things, when in fact, I should just shut the hell up and realize how damn good I have it. So I have a little irritability brought on by hormones… could be worse. I could be terminally ill. Or one of the kids could be. Or we could be flat out poor or in debt up to our eyeballs. But we’re so not. We’ve planned and worked hard and to be honesty, we’ve been so damn lucky. We have constructed this life wherein we’re awfully comfortable and sometimes, though it feels staid, I should really take that proverbial step back and look at all that we have. Lordy, my kids are so freaking awesome. Isaac is practically potty training himself, Elliot is finally reading at the level I’d expect him to be at, and they both just light up when they come home to me. There’s just nothing like that feeling, I tell you.
And my husband, well, let’s not get all mushy but I don’t know how I ever even managed to land one so great. We make things work and that’s ridiculously important when you have jobs and kids and dogs and a mortgage and all that jazz. In fact, one good example is this afternoon, when I will go to prenatal yoga and he’ll rearrange his evening run and make dinner for the kids, get them all ready for bed. Typically I do this because it still gets dark early enough that he has to head out soon after work if he wants to get in any good trail runs. We have a balance (though, it’s definitely not 50/50; he has never once touched a broom or the vacuum).
Sometimes I just get so caught up in the little things and not the good ones. I need to find joy in the right little things; the little purple flowers that grow in my yard, the way light filters into my kitchen, eggs, lattes, date days, hugs. I’ve been clouded by pregnancy side effects but I’m getting better. Always getting better.