Today has been all over the map. Blood work to check for Lyme’s first thing after boys drop-off (due to a tick bite that won’t heal), then a first-time appointment with a new therapist, then speeding to a daycare tour for PreK this fall, before heading home to complete a 1/2 day of website work.
I’ve got too many browser windows open, literally and figuratively.
And where I’ve chosen to cut back has been with exercise & evening meditation. Not great, I know. Unfortunately, as important as those things are, sometimes the rest of life’s demands scream a bit louder.
Right now, Little W is top on my mind, followed by work, my relationship with C (and Little C), and then self-care.
I have a little notecard I keep near the bathroom mirror that helps remind me to chill in times like this:
You can have it all, but you can’t have it all perfectly.
Late PM update:
Well, speaking of imperfect, guess who went and undid days of positive communication with C by complaining about his parenting participation?
How frustrating that days of intentional positivity and encouragement can be completely erased by one, 5-minute, PMS-induced, “why do I have the entire responsibility of calling OT agencies, insurance, local schools, daycares and scheduling tours, interviewing people, researching places and programs online, coordinating everyone’s time etc etc etc?” bitch session at the end of a stressful day. Even worse, when he protested that he absolutely did not have the time to help out, I got preachy about the alcohol.
“You know, when I cleaned up my life, I found that I had a lot more bandwidth than I did previously…yada yada”
God damn it, why didn’t I just shut up when I felt the grumpy coming on? This conversation is exactly the kind of shit that C grabs onto and doesn’t forget. And attaching a preachy anti-alcohol slogan to the end of it only harms his chance of ever considering a change. I wish I could undo the evening.
It’s like neither of us has any compassion for the fact that the other is completely overwhelmed. In my case, I need to believe that he really can’t handle anything else, so therefore I must.
The benefit of the doubt is seriously lacking in our marriage right now.
We both believe the negative stories we’ve told ourselves about the other, and at the same time, we both feel trapped by the box the other has put us into.