It's official. Apparently a general consensus is forming that the LGBB loves Justine Clarke so much because she looks like me. Or I look like her. I wish I was the pre-pregnancy, so without the thunder thighs in very fitted pants (nasty wardrobe lady) but with the later natural wavy-haired era, Justine.
Today marked the worst day yet in terms of my patience with her. Lolly, not Justine. Though the try-hardness of Ms Clarke got under my nails like slivers of bamboo today too. Now I'm even psycho-analysing this, suspecting my disdain for her is because I recognise bits in her that are so chirpy, so giddy, that hell yeah I want to smack her down a size. Because I wish I was that "happy" - not for one second is the irony lost on me that apparently she is how some people obviously still see me (or perhaps they just can't let go and accept that that once-chipper, innocent me has long chirped her last cheep... might be time to stop holding out hope, people). Though I do admit to unashamedly overanimating when singing countless songs a day and making up stupid ditties and pointing out the most mundane things in simple words, all because I delight in the wonder I see in her face. Lolly's, not Justine's.
In my now crazed state, I am actually thinking I'm taking out on her some of the anger I've been carrying for years. Lolly, not Justine. Indignant anger stemming from the fact that I've put others first so much in my time, anyone I've constantly given an inch to who then gaily assumes a mile or 10 - it still happens, although rarely now. I tend to discern my friends more wisely since the experience with Ellanor.
And yet, of course I know it's right and it's a given that the LGBB would take so much of me - I had so much I was prepared to give a baby, any baby - but here I still find myself grappling for any morsel of time to be me and starting to feel deeply resentful about it. And just when I thought I was just starting to reach the precipice and choof merrily down the other side of the slope into parental bliss too. Tra-la.
I realise there are things I can do to ease the load, within reason. For instance, I'm still attempting to organise occasional care, that blissful mecca that still eludes me because a) they ask that new babies come after 2.30pm the first couple of times while the parent waits in Reception, "in case the staff can't settle her" (wow, gee, instills a lot of hope), and b) the LGBB changes her pattern and time of afternoon catnaps anywhere from 1-3pm and I daren't take her if she isn't well rested or the whole exercise might prove futile. But the wily little minx isn't going to get out of it tomorrow, ho no. Not after today. Tomorrow, she will be woken from her sleep (yes it's that important to me - I've made it an unspoken rule that I never wake her once she's down, and nor have I had to, she has an uncanny internal clock that wakes her even if I was going in to do so) and taken down to the place where I've chosen to drop her off. So that I can come back home and ... do anything else other than attend to every whim of Ms Whinge-a-lot.
I could also drop the work I currently do in the one decent block of sleep Lolly takes, usually in the morning anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours. Usually somewhere in between. But paid work, in the name of my business, is too important to me. It's essential in terms of not only some financial independence, but moreso because I honour Ella by doing what I can to make the business thrive. It's a tough call. Of course, I'll never deny the LGBB's needs to feed the business side of my life. But I don't underestimate the power and the pull of what the business means to me, on a much deeper level, than simply earning money and making it work. It replaced the daughter I wasn't raising, for three years now. It will be a very hard one to ever let go and I hope that time never comes. That even if I am not strictly doing what it is I do under that banner of ERW Design now, and I'm not taking on much new work lately as I simply do not have a moment to dedicate, I am at least hopeful of retaining it as a working entity.
And now, to sleep. Perchance (not) to dream, because I want an uninterrupted comatose kind of experience. In order that I am refreshed to confront tomorrow.
1 comment:
While you're need for "me" time runs alot deeper than imaginable, even on a very basic level it is important to have YOUR time.
Not to exercise or do errands or go to a workshop or even sleep (however, that is always my most appealing option and I usually pass up the "me" time for a bit of a sleep-in).
But, you need to go and wander around by yourself and do some shopping or just sit and have a coffee or watch a DVD. Something, anything that requires giving nothing of yourself to anyone!
And, it's not about squeezing in that time while the LGBB (hey, I only realised today that Schmoo's initial are, in fact, LGB! Ha!) is asleep so keep your work because that time is not going to feel like "me" time anyway.
It's about leaving the house without the bag and the pram and food, or even staying on the couch and not once having to get up unless, of course, you have to pee!
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