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.