Aaaaand, We’re Back (with a Little Self-Reckoning)

So, yeah, it’s been a bit.  Over a month, actually.  And yes, we’ve been busy, and yes, the girls have been a handful, and yes, all the usual stuff.  Except…not entirely.

No, nonono, I’m not pregnant.  I’m not dying.  There’s nothing really, terribly wrong with me.  I’m just in a little bit a funk is all.  Were I an “armchair psychologist” I’d probably diagnose myself with mild depression, but 1) I’m not, 2) I feel like that probably makes light of actual depression which I would never intend to do, and 3) I’m not going to give whatever the hell this general feeling of “meh” is the satisfaction of being named.  I’m just in a mood–a mood that’s lasted about two months so far.

Maybe it’s a mid-life crisis?  Again, so cliche, ugh.  About a month ago, I had a realization.  I’m not calling it an epiphany because it wasn’t a moment surrounded by bright lights and strange angelic yet operatic singing.  It was just a “huh” moment, when I put something into exact words that had only been vaguely formed up until that point.  I was standing in our kitchen, getting increasingly irritated by the general level of griminess, which led me to contemplate the general level of “ick” in our entire house*, and the thought popped into my head, “We are the adults now.  There is NO ONE else who is going to do this for us.”

For about two seconds, I felt really energized by this self-reckoning.  I was going to take on the messy garage, organize the storage portion of the basement, clean out the closets, donate the unnecessary clothing, arrange to have the trim on the house painted, and next spring, I’d completely redo the landscaping in the yard to such an extent that it might be something one could actually call landscaping!  I was Queen of the Suburbs!

Once these two seconds were over, I just felt tired. Really, really tired.  Because there was laundry to be done, and dinner to cook, and I also had a full-time job, and I had children who needed attention on top of actual functional care, and I had an old cat that had to be hunted down once every three days and forcibly medicated, and where the hell in all of this was I supposed to find the time to make my house something I actually wanted to live in, and even if I did, how would I maintain it in the face of two small children and a husband who still thinks his side of the bedroom floor and the laundry hamper are the same thing?!

And, I’m pretty much still there.  I’ve had the realization, and it depressed the shit out of me.  With the girls both being on behavioral benders lately** and the activities and homework ramping up and and and…  I think my mind, at least the creative portion of it, just shut down.  I think it’s still shut down.  This is mostly just an attempt to jump start it.  I’m just tired and feeling vaguely, generally dissatisfied and overwhelmed.  I mean, I’ve come to the point where my feelings can be illustrated by a meme.  That’s where we’re at, people.


Now don’t assume that I’m just schlumping around my house, unable to brush my hair or pull myself out of bed.  It’s not that at all.  I am not writing this to garner pity.  God, that’s the last thing I want!  Seriously.  It’s just taking a little more mental energy to keep up the same level of activity as before, which is why no blog for all of November.  I just didn’t have anything to say that needed saying, and I wouldn’t have been very good at saying it anyway.

However, I cannot live in an ongoing state of malaise because, well, basically it will just get worse, and so, it is time to step up the game a bit.  I AM the adult now.  No one else IS going to do it for me.  Yesterday, I sorted through the girls’ toys and books and packed up three boxes worth for donations (as well as throwing away an entire trash bag full of crap, but I did not tell them this and don’t you dare either).  Today I am writing this post.  Tomorrow, I’m taking on the world.  Or steam-cleaning the upstairs carpets.  One of the two.


* It’s, I suppose, not really that bad.  It’s generally picked up–I at least get that far–but as to how clean it is on a daily basis…  Yeah, not so much.

** Seriously, both of them.  Thing 1 won’t listen, mouths-off, and generally acts like we’re completely ruining her day whenever we ask her to do something.  Thing 2 is whiny, grouchy, and still won’t go to sleep on her own most nights.  Also, she cries about being denied food and then refuses to eat her dinner.  Aaand, she’s almost three and basically refuses to be potty-trained, which is so very, very awesome.  It feels like almost everything is a struggle right now, or at least has the potential to be, which makes you feel like you’re walking on eggshells around your own kids.  And then there’s that nagging voice in the back of your head saying “But you made them this way.  You’re the parent.  This is on you.”  Wheee.