Staying at home, raising my son, was not like I had pictured in my head. I really imagined that I would be like June Cleaver or Samantha Stephens or even Lucy Ricardo without the crazy antics.
I recently took on this project for my current employer (the last one before officially saying good-bye) and I was a bit stressed about it. I also took on replacing bottles with sippy cups and bedtime without rocking…all that during a growth spurt.
I was upset that my house wasn’t getting cleaned, Zack wasn’t sleeping like he should, I was more tired than usual and I had this project (for the Vice President) looming overhead. I wanted to cry every night.
I was discussing my frustrations with David…translation = I was crying and complaining about being stressed…and he said he understood, but also that he was stressed about something he was working on at work. I understand that the working world has its stresses and that the home world has its own sets of stresses. My stresses many seem minuscule to those in the working world. His stresses are, most of the time, completely over my head. But that is not what this is about.
So there I was, lying in bed, wondering why it’s so much more difficult than I thought it would be. Why can’t I keep the house clean? Why can’t I keep Zack sleeping like he should? When was I going to have time to work on this stupid project? Why couldn’t it be like “Leave it to Beaver” and the house be spotless with minimal effort? Why couldn’t there be a meatloaf baking and ready as soon as David walks in the door? When will I be able to move through my house in a brainless, obsessive-compulsive way where everything is always spotless, disinfected and fresh? When will my dishes be done and my laundry folded and put away?
In the end…I decided that I’m going to stress less. If Zack doesn’t want to go back to sleep, I’m not going to push it. I’m going to take a deep breath and tackle the dishes…and the laundry…and the bathrooms. If dinner doesn’t get done before David gets home, oh well.
And by the time I wrote this, I’m almost done with my project. A huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. My dishes WERE done. Laundry is getting done…well, there are socks in the dryer. Zack is sleeping (a whole half hour earlier than my goal time). Ah, I feel better.
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