Building a Mystery

This road I've chosen - marriage, home ownership, motherhood (of two!) is a struggle. I never realized how much harder it would be to go from one to two, but its really hard. Of course this reminds me of the fact that I never realized how hard it was to even have one.. but now I've got two. But I digress...

Last week was a hard one. Abby had a doctors and a dentist appointment in the same week. This meant that her little routine was messed up. She had to go late to preschool on Tuesday and miss it completley on Thursday. As a result, she acted out a LOT that week. On Thursday, I was so distracted by Abby's inappropriate behaviour (she was on a time out) and a crying baby that during dinner preparation, I grabbed a hot pan handle and wound up with excruciating 2nd degree burns all over my right hand. It hurt so bad and I yelled so loud I traumatized Abby. She started bawling. I wound up in the E.R. with an outrageously high blood pressure, and had to be shot up with morphine and a tetanus shot, as well as taking percocet/acetominophen, ibuprofen and of course, gravol to keep my guts intact after all the narcotics. Didnt stop me from wharfing out the car door on the way home though. It was good high though!

So.. you might ask.. what's with the title for this blog post? Tonight I'm forced to take a break from housework on account of my bummed hand. Instead I'm going through old CDs and transferring my favourite songs to my MP3 player. I'm on Sarah McLachlan's "Surfacing" - an old favourite.

Listening to songs I long forgot about is one of the very few ways I can hang onto a grasp of my "adult self" - the person that I used to be prior to having kids - throughout the day, especially when I"m here alone, or when I'm going for a walk with Xavier. It helps to drown out his screaming when he's settling down for a nap (he's one of those babies that disdains soothers, and cries himself to sleep almost EVERY time).

Around 1996 or so I saw Sarah in concert. It was an AMAZING night. During that time I was dating a guy in Montreal - a guy I eventually moved in with for 1998-2000. A relationship that I thought was going places, but it ended extremely badly. But during that time I got to do a LOT of stuff and got to know Montreal REALLY well. Its a fun city to live in thats for sure, but I felt it was never the kind of place to settle down in and raise kids, which was my ultimate goal.

During that time in my life I was so carefree, I had it sooo easy but I didnt realize it. I guess the fact that I didnt have a job or any kind of income might have clouded the fact that it was pretty easy living. Easy mostly, except for dealing with the guy that I was dating. I thought we were good friends and our relationship would stand the test of time, but it didn't. I dont know where or when it all went sour, or what exactly happened, but I went from an angel on a pedestal to the spawn of Satan in four short years. I was the same person, same values, same hopes and dreams. How it all came unravelled so quickly I dont know.

Why am I romanticizing the past - especially a ROTTEN time in my past - when now I finally have everything I've always wanted - a home, a husband who loves me, two great kids who also love me, and a good job that pays well? Does this mean I dont love my husband or my kids? Does this mean I made a mistake with my life? Sometimes I am so tired and so wrung out by this motherhood gig that I think I have made a BIG mistake. Its SOO much work to raise two kids and keep a house in semi-order. After putting the kids to bed, tidying up a bit and taking some "me" time there's little time for each other. And I"m not even a neatnik - I"m just after a house that's not overrun with dust and mould and dirt and rotting food. Some serious disarray and crayon marks on the walls are acceptable.

Why did I do this? I could be jetting off to Europe any time I like.. doing whatever I please. I could spend lazy Saturdays and Sundays in bed. But I can't. And I have no idea when I will be able to do that again, if ever. Why did I do this to myself?

I thought that I"d be less lonely with a family. But lately it feels like I'm MORE lonely. The evenings are filled with my husband and I each taking a child for the evening (its hard when the kids are at two very different stages). Yes there's company when I take my 3 year old to the park at night, but its not an adult conversation. There's no understanding, no comraderie (how do you spell that) and it's still being "on duty".

I hope there's more love and company in this life that I've chosen. I hope that the best is yet to come. Everyone tells me that this gets better, gets easier. I hope so. Right now its very very hard. It just feels like drudgery and I dont get a lot of fun.

Maybe there IS love here and I can't see it? I guess I've spent so many years chasing love, wanting love, hoping to find love that I have a hard time recognizing it. Even my husband tells me that I only listen to the bad stuff, and I have a hard time listening to the good stuff, the compliments, the kudos, the kisses.

I should listen to him more about stuff like that. Maybe its my clouded ears and my jaded attitude that's the problem, and not my life.

So every day, I guess I *am* building a mystery. Every day I get up at 5:30 am (give or take an hour) and get the baby, feed the baby, dress the baby, get breakfast on the table, help get Abby and Clancy out the door. All day long I dress the baby, feed the baby, burp the baby, take the baby for a walk, try to get the baby to nap, cook food, do a bit of housecleaning, pick up Abby, prepare dinner, pick a child, complete evening routine, prepare formula, arrange dishes, run a load of laundry, spend a bit of time on the computer and crash at 10pm (lather.. rinse.. repeat...).

I have no idea what our life will be like in 1 year, 2 years, 3 years, 5 years, 10 years. I dont know who my kids will become, what they will want to do, what their likes and dislikes will be. I don't even really have much of an insight into my baby son's personality yet.

I dont know when I'll be able to return to having some of my interests returned into my life. I dont know when I'll feel less guilty taking time for myself, I have NO idea when I'll be confident enough to stay home with 2 kids alone for any length of time...

But right now, every day I work.. HARD. I guess I'm building.. but I don't know what I am building. I'm building my own mystery, a day at a time.

I hope this mystery has a good ending.