I want to go home. I don’t want to write. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to entertain a tired baby for one more minute. I want her to go to sleep in her bed and then I need to go to bed. I’m done interacting with the world today. Done. I just want to brush my teeth, wash my face, crawl into bed and have sweet sweet dreams about Humberto our landscaping guy.
Ok he’s not really our landscaping guy but he did give us a quote. I think Bill wants to go with the OTHER landscaper. The ’nice older guy with a pot belly…’ well, yeah, if you’re into getting the job DONE instead of enjoying the eye candy while they’re doing a probably ok job. Well. I digress.
In the last two weeks Ellie has learned to pull herself up on her own, how to walk a bit while holding onto things, how to stand on her own for a few amazing, tottering seconds, how to say ‘I don’t know’ (hands up in an I don’t know gesture, with a vocal sound that sounds exactly like I don’t know but without the words). She can identify her head, and tell you she doesn’t know where her belly is. Or anything else really but that alone is amazing. She is progressing, maturing in leaps and bounds. A fly scared her today. She was at the window sill looking out as is her want, and it must have just been hanging out there quietly then suddenly started buzzing and flying because she was not pleased. Angry monkey-like intonations and bouncing on her feet with some tears. She would not conquer her fear of flies today but we did see a mosquito on the other side of the window and we managed to get pretty close to that until it flew away. She looked at me and did her ‘I don’t know’ thing again. I think she meant, hey, where did it go? I said it flew away. She did the I don’t know thing again - I think she’s already like, duh, I saw it go, WHERE did it go? Mommy you’re not as smart as I thought you were….She’s also started blinking for no. Want more liverwurst? Blink. Want this toy? Blink. THIS toy? Blink. This one? Yes, she accepts the toy. When she’s fussy in the car we sing to her. Now she cries when we stop singing. We end up singing the same five or six songs over and over again. Wheels on the Bus can kiss MY bus. It’s a good thing she oozes adorableness from every pore.
Know who DOESN”T ooze adorableness from every pore? Me. I’m cranky and tired and overwhelmed and irritated that I feel so cranky and tired and overwhelmed. I’m not a refugee on the run from crazy people trying to kill my family and I or worse. I’m not homeless and living on the street. I’m in a very comfortable home in a very comfortable part of town with a soft comfy bed and lots of restaurant-worthy home cooked food to eat and even a sweet, super smart little girl to keep my baby girl company. I’ve got loads of super nice people trying to get my baby used to them so eventually I can leave her with them and go see a movie, or have dinner just Bill and I. What’s wrong with me that all I want to do is yell at everyone to leave me the heck alone and go sulk in a dark room with nothing and no one but my kindle and a mug of hot tea? (IE: Full glass of good Cab.)
Does this mean I’m a loner!? But, I love people! Don’t I? Aren’t I a people person? I think maybe under duress we revert to a more primitive state. I’m not feeling relaxed and easy-going and confident and hence able to feel the love for my fellow man. The only thing I’m feeling toward my fellow man right now is an urgent need to tell them to MOVE OUT OF MY WAY. Why and where am I going? I have no clue. But I need to be alone to get there.
We move into the house this week. I fully expect my love of my fellow man and woman to return once I’m able to sleep in my own bed, cook my own food, use my kettle to make my tea, turn on the TV and watch the Daily Show and the Nightly Show in the morning while she plays as is MY want. And to invite people over once I’ve had my fill of solitude. Life is a balance and right now I’m out of balance. The biggest thing you learn from living with another family is that it exposes you to another way of eating, living, communicating, working, BEING. It throws light on your own way of doing things and makes you question the logic behind it. I think all in all I strive to live an aware life. Aware of why I make certain decisions, why I eat a certain way, why I’m feeling a certain way, how we’re raising Ellie. It may not make sense to anyone else (I’ve been told) but it makes sense to me and frankly that’s all that matters.
As in every situation where I’m uncomfortable I try to look to see what I’m being shown. I’m being exposed to a side of myself I may not have seen if this hadn’t happened to me. I’m kind of a jerk when I’m stressed. I’m a little judgy, which I hate. I’m not all sunshine and light. I’m a little rigid. I don’t just enjoy my routines, I have grown to need them like the shell of a turtle. They protect me from the swish, swish, pull, pull of the many currents trying to move me about. It’s good for me I think to feel a little exposed now and again. Like a turtle in a vast ocean without a shell. Or, more accurately, like a hermit crab (because I’m so, so crabby) in a vast ocean looking for a new shell. Maybe that shell was too small and I need to find a bigger one.