Full disclosure

            Yesterday afternoon, I was sobbing, sitting on my bedroom floor, unable to stop even though Zachary was there.

            I am stretched almost as thin as I can be.  I have to unpack.  I have to take care of the boys, and although we have some part-time help, I don’t want to up it any more till the baby comes because they clearly are very needy right now after all our transitions.  I have to set up the details of our lives here, from doctors to camps to friends to voicemail.  With my husband, I have to make choices on renovations that are happening to part of the house.  I have to slide on into that third trimester.

            I also have to finish revisions on the book, which trumps all else because if it doesn’t happen before the end of September, it just won’t.  And revisions involve a lot of back and forth between me and various other readers at this point.

            Don’t suggest my husband take on some of it, because he is carrying more than I am.  He is at work so much the boys rarely see him during the week.  He is in charge of forms and mail and bills.  He is jumping through hoops to get parking permits for our cars.  And he is not well.  He is having some pretty intense medical issues right now that I won’t get into because this is my blog and if he wanted to spill all his crap out on the internet, he’d have a blog of his own.  Suffice it to say, I am working to find him better doctors, because the one he had found nothing and there is clearly something wrong.

            It is too much.  It is too damned much.  I do not get enough sleep because either a child needs me or I need to unpack or my husband cannot sleep because he is unwell and tosses about.  I do not cook much anymore, but with a picky eater, I sort of have to, because there are only certain ways he will eat his food prepared.  And I have enough to deal with without him dipping back below the fifth percentile.  My teeth are leaving a permanent imprint on my tongue because I am clenching the one and thrusting the other. 

            And the kids need dentists.  And it has been a year since I have had my teeth checked out.  And, thank god my sister-in-law gave me some of her maternity clothes when we were in DC, because I don’t have the energy to look for some and I do need to get dressed.  Between the baby hanging out the front and the ballast that is my ass hanging out the back, nudity is not an option.

            And the baby is coming at the end of September.  And the book, the book.  The book wants me to pay some attention to it, but it cannot throw a tantrum nor do I trip over it on the way to the bathroom, so I tell it that it will have to wait. 

             And it is time to potty train. 

            So, please, friends from real life, forgive me if you have heard nothing personal from me in way too long.  It will be even longer.  I need to focus on creating a social network for the boys here because they need the playdates, and picking up the phone too many times in a day overwhelms me.  I know you old friends will wait for me, as you have done so many times before.  Online friends, forgive me if your blogs go unattended.  J, forgive me if I cannot support you the way you need right now.  Neither of us is Atlas, and the earth seems to be sagging between us.

            And Zachary, please forgive me if the sandwich is cut wrong.  I just can’t take any more outbursts from you, even though I know, I know, I know that you are just acting out the sea of transitions and changes we have put you through.  And Benjamin, please forgive me if you are having to be the big boy right now.

            We will keep on keepin’ on because that is what we do.  But, please, everyone, forgive me in the meantime.  It is all too much right now, and I simply cannot add guilt on top of it because it will fall over.

33 responses to “Full disclosure

  1. No guilt…Mom’s are good enough at creating guilt, you don’t need anymore from a place that should be an outlet. I will send as many virtual hugs as I can and let you know that I am thinking of you.

  2. Oh Emily. I wish I could be there to help out (or at least get you drunk). I hate that feeling of being steam rolled by my own life.

    I know you’ll all be fine, and I hope things settle down very soon!

    *HUGS*

  3. Transition is tough on everyone, but parents aren’t supposed to act up over things. It’s tougher for them because they are going through all the same stuff, but have to go through all the WORK to make everything better.

    What you need is what you are doing. Taking time to sort it out. In a few months, this will be behind you, but getting there will be tough. Your friends will understand. And they’ll pray or send good thoughts your husband’s way.

    And when it gets too much, just take time to lie down with your kids and read to them or talk to them about when they were born (that’s my kids’ favorite thing), and maybe fall asleep with them. So what if it’s in the middle of the day and you have a bazillion things to do? Those things will be there tomorrow.

  4. I would come if I could. I am so sorry. Try to be kind to yourself at this hard time. And I don’t mean that you should not do the work – you have to. But don’t beat yourself up when you feel this way.

    You have every right to feel this way, friend.

  5. 19thmayflower

    hey emily, i can feel your tensions just by reading.
    take care of yourself and baby too, ok?
    *hugz*

  6. E-

    What are you apologizing for? Charity starts at home and if other folks have issues, then they are not folks you need in your life.

    You are going to feel so great when you look back at this time later in life.

    Smack J in the head for me (if only virtually) and if there is anything we do from 1,000 miles away – just let us know.

    Love,
    C, K, P and S

  7. oh goodness! i hate that overwhelmed feeling of life – i hope that it settles in soon, and that the details start taking care of themselves so you can focus on the important things :)

  8. oh sister. words feel so futile in moments like this, the false comfort of the blog world strikes me as so hollow. because you see, if we were neighbors I’d come over with a soft blanket and a cookie. and i’d babysit. and send you for a nap.

    so instead the hollowness makes me itch. i am sorry for all that is going on for you right now.

  9. Oh, Em. I’m sorry. The way you’re feeling sucks. I wish I could hug you. I’m with Jen, I’d love to be able to just come over, help you unpack, make you some lunch, and play with the kids while you rested on the couch nearby.

    Of course we’ll wait for you, and don’t you feel one bit bad for taking care of your family instead of commenting on our blogs.

    I’m sending out prayers and get-well wishes for J, too.

  10. I’m so sorry to hear things are crappy right now. Hang on as best you can, and they will get better.

    We’ll be thinking of you.

  11. I’m sorry Miss E. You know I understand. Or maybe you don’t know that I do, but I do.

    *hugs*

    Anything I can do?

  12. aw, Em. (big hug).
    what Jen said.

  13. I know there’s not much that helps from here, but just take care of yourself when you can.

    Any chance Zach could take over the cutting of his sandwiches for a while? (Really, when my daughter has gotten upset about that, I look at her like she’s from another planet. Who knew that getting the sandwich cut just right would become the most important thing in a moment? If you’d told me 10 years ago, I would never have believed it.)

    Hang in there. And don’t worry too much about the boxes. There’s lots of stuff one can live without for quite some time. I’m an expert on that.

  14. No guilt, no advice. Just commiseration. You sound so overwhelmed and tired – I hope you find the help you need.

    Hang in there -
    fiwa

  15. oh man. this is all so much.

    i get it. it really do.

    hang in there, friend.

  16. Oh honey ((you))

  17. I hate this feeling – that I am functioning at maximum capacity and still barely getting by. Take care of yourself.

    Also, the book may need to be done by September, but it doesn’t have to be done today. In a month or so the boys will be back to normal and preschool will start back. The book, she is patient.

  18. I’m so sorry, Emily. It’s no wonder you’re feeling this way, and I’m worried for your husband, too. Even though you feel you don’t have time, I hope you are finding just a little to touch base with friends, or giving a shout out to the internets, because you need and deserve a little lift wherever you can get it.

  19. Hang in. Hang in. Hang in.

    Sending good vibes your way and wishing you the best.

  20. I’m so sorry you’re having such a tough time right now…

    Hang in there.

  21. Oh man. It all sounds like so much. You just all need a break!
    Keep hanging on! It will get better!

  22. Emily. (hugs) of course. of course we are fine and will leave space and understanding.

    I know it feels like it took a year, and then two, and then back and then now to really get my act together after a move and new child and so many changes in a row.

    So much stress, yes, it’s wearing.

    Hold on hon.

  23. I really feel for you. I have felt that close to teetering over the edge with much less of a catalyst. My thoughts will be with you.

    -t

  24. Oh hon. I wish I could come over and help.

    Thinking of you.

  25. oh, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say or do. Don’ t feel badly, at least not towards the interweb, it will still be here when you have hit your stride – and you will – when your husband is better – when your house is settled – and your book is done – all this will happen. I’m thinking of you. I had my third kid once upon a time – somehow it has worked out beautifully, but there were some ugly, ugly moments.

  26. Time.
    You need time.
    Things will settle. The kids will adjust.
    Thinking of you, in the meantime . . .:)

  27. You captured it well, or at least I can picture some sense of the craziness. Best wishes to you, and take care of yourself. There now, ready? Exhale. There you go.

  28. 3kids2jobs1dog

    I could have written this post five years ago while pregnant with my third and moving into a new home with a 1 yo and a 2 yo in tow. I sometimes don’t know how I lived through it, but I did, and you will too.

    Just remember….His mercies are new each morning. Tomorrow is a new day.

  29. I’m sorry. I hope things look up soon.

    Thinking about you.

    xo

  30. It will get better – it will. In the mean time as so many others said take care of you and everything else will be easier.

    Not that I ever take my own advice…

  31. that is a lot. a lot for one set of shoulders.

    wishing you strength, and gentleness on yourself, Emily.

    we will be here.

  32. absolutely no guilt.

    wish I could come over and play with the boys so you could nap or write or whateever, and I’d fix you all a meal.

  33. Emily, you poor sweetie. Unpacking a house when you’re pregnant is bad enough even without all the other %^& you mention here. Hang in there, friend. This will pass.