Well- two weeks under my belt as far as being back at work. The first day was tough- I called home at noon and Alex had been hysterical crying since I had left. His two front bottom teeth had started to break through two days earlier, and he was rightly upset. Pain and tenderness in his mouth and no mommy in sight. I packed up the laptop and the breast pump and came home to work the rest of the day from of the house. Fortunately, when I got home the baby had finally taken a bottle- a full one, and had worn himself out with the crying- he took a 3 hour nap, so that was a relief. Other than that no particular worries about home- I am having faith that things are going well with the nanny, Rachel when I am not here. I have just been dealing with weird network/connectivity problems from home that have been making me a little batty- but I think they are resolved now. I should be good to go in my one day per week at the office, and work one day from home. On Fridays I get 3 hours for myself- the first week I went and saw the movie, Atonement, and yesterday I went out to an upscale mall about 25 minutes from my house. I bought these special slippers for the kids- and then a new pair of jeans from the Gap for myself. Woo hoooo! I think I have not bought clothing for myself since before I got pregnant with Sophie (except maternity clothes of course.) All my stuff looks so worn and awful- jeans just sliding down my hips. What is encouraging is that I am actually six pounds lighter than when I got pregnant with Alexander and hope to lose more; the nursing is good stuff for taking the weight off. The honest truth is that most of the time it is hard to even get food into my face without one of them needing something... However I am still managing to wolf down warm cookies at night before bed, my weakness, vice, comfort...
The Friday time is such a good thing- even after just two weeks- I can tell it is worth every dime to just have time for myself. Getting into my car and blasting some of my music, rolling down the window and just tuning out everything. My body is achy from carrying Alex so much- he is almost 17 lbs- and it is a relief to just not be lugging him for a few hours. The work days too- they are good for my mental and physical health. It is nice to have a balance. My boss, Josie, is pregnant and asked if I would be willing to come back full time during her maternity leave- I am assuming to take over her position! Can you imagine? I mean, I said no because of the kids, but for her to think I could just jump into her title/role- director of web production is just wacky. I mean, I think I have the managerial skills, but my technical knowledge is just so far behind...
Anyway- the home life is just so tense right now. Hubby is in such a bad way- nervous about getting laid off from his job, his back in pain pretty regularly, looking around at this unfinished house of ours that still needs so much work. And the truth is- the biggest strain of all is just myself and Sophie and Alex being here. We live here, we are here a lot. They play, things get messy. I try my best to stay ahead of the game - I really do - I struggle every day to housekeep and never stop picking and wiping up- putting away discarded socks/dolls/crayons/stuffed animals/plastic figurines/polished stones. The mail piles up- the stuff to keep- and we have nowhere at the moment to really put it (working on that one via Ikea ideas.) The train table gets loaded up with stuff and I try to get it cleared but it just doesn't all get done. A couple of days ago Alex was in the exersaucer, Sophie playing with something and bam I vacuumed all 3 bedrooms in record time. Stayed up til 11 the night before - I had refused to surrender to the night until the kitchen floor had been mopped. I just could not go another day with it so sticky and yucky. Grocery shopping, laundry, trying to cook two dinners per week if I can pull it off, do bills, give baths, feed, clothe, read! It is a lot, and I am struggling because although Geoff is really trying his best he is in such rough emotional shape that he is barely hanging on. Honestly. Everything sends him over the edge- he can't get a handle on the simplest personal issues to manage because the house is just too busy with all four of us here. The crazy thing is that I don't ask much of him at all! Reading Sophie stories at bedtime, maybe holding Alex for a while in the evening so that I can get a couple of minor things done. It is merely our presence and volume that makes Geoff feel overwhelmed. I have never known him to be this low, in such a dark, dark place and it is scary. I need him back. I need my husband back. I know he does not find joy in this family- it seems to cause him only chaos and the moments of happiness are just thin streaks of instances of laughter here and there that he shares with his daughter. I know that Geoff loves us all- but we are his burden, plain and simple.
There is a pending appointment with a psychiatrist in two weeks. Geoff needs medication for depression- I know it and he knows it. Each day is getting worse and he really needs help. Help to show him that his life is good. To remind him that he has a house with a pool he designed himself, a wife and beautiful healthy children who love him, a brand new zippy car in the garage, the 42 inch plasma in the living room. There is a lot to be grateful for- but he is so stuck in this negative conversation with himself about the life that is gone- the live shows, drugs, girls, carelessness, depravity, the fruits of his youth. He just cannot accept that all of that is gone and that what he has now in any way brings him the happiness that used to define him. It breaks my heart. I love this man- he wanted to have a family with me. And now here we are and he feels like he is serving a prison sentence. He won't even discuss divorce though I have brought it up. I think it is that he needs to fight his demons head on to try to work through this- to be able to perceive his life through a clearer lense. At a time when I have more meaning in my life than I ever have, he has the least- how can that be?? I am not saying that I am flooded with joy at every moment, but when I hold my girl and my boy and I see what amazing small people they are I am astounded and so complete with feeling unconditional love for them. They are the best thing I have ever done, by far. This situation with Geoff is sucking the pure feelings from me- his pain is wearing me out, coloring my experiences that should be the cleanest I ever have. The time when your children are this age is supposed to be the best time of your life. The best! And I am trying to hang onto that and live in that truth- be in the moment when Sophie races across a grassy park, bolting like a young pony, her glossy mane bobbing in the wind as she tosses her head back and forth. When Alex is reaching out with cool, drooly hands for my fingers and dragging them into his mouth to gnaw on- when he give me big wet open mouthed kisses on the tip of my nose and jawline. I revel in their smiles, laugh at their 'bumpers' ("There is a sea captain in your bottom trying to get out!") I ache that my partner, the love of my life, the man that I have shared so many special moments with is missing this. That he cannot connect with this language I share with them- I ache for him and myself. How can he feel so lost when we are so completely found by these two people - these children who we are their whole world? This parenting adventure requires a sense of humor, a grand faith that all will be alright with their health and well-being while keeping close watch, a buoyancy of spirit, a strong back and backbone, patience, resilience, reserves of kindness and selflessness. It takes a lot! It takes more every day and I know how hard it is to pull that out and try to be the best person you can for the sake of your family. I am just so disappointed. I thought that Geoff would be such a good father, even though he himself did not have a good role model- that he would shine as a dad and there are moments of clarity and calm, but they are only moments. The hours are filled with having to step out and smoke a cigarette in order to not lose it. The weekends are filled with sullen silences and negativity- until the kids and myself leave and go out- get out to leave that damp chill behind- to go bask in the sunny dispositions of female relatives and beachside swingsets. Today I was frantic to leave. Normally Geoff and Sophie share a special Saturday morning activity- either art class or music class- then they stop at starbucks before they get home. This marks their special time together for the week and they both do enjoy it - thank god. Today's class was cancelled which I only found out yesterday, and so today I was like, jesus, we need to get out of here! We shared a wonderful day in Santa Monica with sister Karen- a windy cool day at the park near the airport, caramel milk at Starbucks and a new pair of toddler Vans for Soph- size 7 and a half. Tomorrow will be out to my mom's house for more park time and fawning over my fast growing, second born love boy. The weekends here are torturous which is why we escape- when Monday returns the house is ours again- to mess up, to watch the little einsteins in, for Sophie to grab sippy cups to play with in Alex's bath water in the kitchen sink after he has been cleaned up, to snort and laugh and make each other crazy.
My life has this insane polarity. (From dictionary.com- 2. the presence or manifestation of two opposite or contrasting principles or tendencies.) Nameless adoration and devotion for these human creatures I carried in my body, and complete alienation coupled with solid fear of losing this life I have built with this man I married 8 months shy of 10 years ago. I need him in so many ways and still love him as I did when we were babies ourselves, 22 and 23 years old. We were so carefree then, smoking cigarettes, hanging out at Topanga Days, me in long pale pink hippie skirts, Geoff tan from hours in the community pool, thin and spending hours playing the guitar, waiting tables. That couldn't last forever- we had to grow up. I would never have been happy still living that life. I don't understand how he can pine for it in such an idealistic way- we were broke and renting crappy apartments/guest houses, no money for travel, and just getting by. It was lean and scrappy and there were very few choices save which day of the music festival should we go to?? Don't get me wrong- it was wonderful in so many ways- big, passionate kisses, lots of candles burning into the night, poetry and songs, bars and shows. But all of that was finite- I mean, that didn't last beyond our mid to late twenties for christ's sake!
baby has awoken- time to nurse him back to sleep...
The Friday time is such a good thing- even after just two weeks- I can tell it is worth every dime to just have time for myself. Getting into my car and blasting some of my music, rolling down the window and just tuning out everything. My body is achy from carrying Alex so much- he is almost 17 lbs- and it is a relief to just not be lugging him for a few hours. The work days too- they are good for my mental and physical health. It is nice to have a balance. My boss, Josie, is pregnant and asked if I would be willing to come back full time during her maternity leave- I am assuming to take over her position! Can you imagine? I mean, I said no because of the kids, but for her to think I could just jump into her title/role- director of web production is just wacky. I mean, I think I have the managerial skills, but my technical knowledge is just so far behind...
Anyway- the home life is just so tense right now. Hubby is in such a bad way- nervous about getting laid off from his job, his back in pain pretty regularly, looking around at this unfinished house of ours that still needs so much work. And the truth is- the biggest strain of all is just myself and Sophie and Alex being here. We live here, we are here a lot. They play, things get messy. I try my best to stay ahead of the game - I really do - I struggle every day to housekeep and never stop picking and wiping up- putting away discarded socks/dolls/crayons/stuffed animals/plastic figurines/polished stones. The mail piles up- the stuff to keep- and we have nowhere at the moment to really put it (working on that one via Ikea ideas.) The train table gets loaded up with stuff and I try to get it cleared but it just doesn't all get done. A couple of days ago Alex was in the exersaucer, Sophie playing with something and bam I vacuumed all 3 bedrooms in record time. Stayed up til 11 the night before - I had refused to surrender to the night until the kitchen floor had been mopped. I just could not go another day with it so sticky and yucky. Grocery shopping, laundry, trying to cook two dinners per week if I can pull it off, do bills, give baths, feed, clothe, read! It is a lot, and I am struggling because although Geoff is really trying his best he is in such rough emotional shape that he is barely hanging on. Honestly. Everything sends him over the edge- he can't get a handle on the simplest personal issues to manage because the house is just too busy with all four of us here. The crazy thing is that I don't ask much of him at all! Reading Sophie stories at bedtime, maybe holding Alex for a while in the evening so that I can get a couple of minor things done. It is merely our presence and volume that makes Geoff feel overwhelmed. I have never known him to be this low, in such a dark, dark place and it is scary. I need him back. I need my husband back. I know he does not find joy in this family- it seems to cause him only chaos and the moments of happiness are just thin streaks of instances of laughter here and there that he shares with his daughter. I know that Geoff loves us all- but we are his burden, plain and simple.
There is a pending appointment with a psychiatrist in two weeks. Geoff needs medication for depression- I know it and he knows it. Each day is getting worse and he really needs help. Help to show him that his life is good. To remind him that he has a house with a pool he designed himself, a wife and beautiful healthy children who love him, a brand new zippy car in the garage, the 42 inch plasma in the living room. There is a lot to be grateful for- but he is so stuck in this negative conversation with himself about the life that is gone- the live shows, drugs, girls, carelessness, depravity, the fruits of his youth. He just cannot accept that all of that is gone and that what he has now in any way brings him the happiness that used to define him. It breaks my heart. I love this man- he wanted to have a family with me. And now here we are and he feels like he is serving a prison sentence. He won't even discuss divorce though I have brought it up. I think it is that he needs to fight his demons head on to try to work through this- to be able to perceive his life through a clearer lense. At a time when I have more meaning in my life than I ever have, he has the least- how can that be?? I am not saying that I am flooded with joy at every moment, but when I hold my girl and my boy and I see what amazing small people they are I am astounded and so complete with feeling unconditional love for them. They are the best thing I have ever done, by far. This situation with Geoff is sucking the pure feelings from me- his pain is wearing me out, coloring my experiences that should be the cleanest I ever have. The time when your children are this age is supposed to be the best time of your life. The best! And I am trying to hang onto that and live in that truth- be in the moment when Sophie races across a grassy park, bolting like a young pony, her glossy mane bobbing in the wind as she tosses her head back and forth. When Alex is reaching out with cool, drooly hands for my fingers and dragging them into his mouth to gnaw on- when he give me big wet open mouthed kisses on the tip of my nose and jawline. I revel in their smiles, laugh at their 'bumpers' ("There is a sea captain in your bottom trying to get out!") I ache that my partner, the love of my life, the man that I have shared so many special moments with is missing this. That he cannot connect with this language I share with them- I ache for him and myself. How can he feel so lost when we are so completely found by these two people - these children who we are their whole world? This parenting adventure requires a sense of humor, a grand faith that all will be alright with their health and well-being while keeping close watch, a buoyancy of spirit, a strong back and backbone, patience, resilience, reserves of kindness and selflessness. It takes a lot! It takes more every day and I know how hard it is to pull that out and try to be the best person you can for the sake of your family. I am just so disappointed. I thought that Geoff would be such a good father, even though he himself did not have a good role model- that he would shine as a dad and there are moments of clarity and calm, but they are only moments. The hours are filled with having to step out and smoke a cigarette in order to not lose it. The weekends are filled with sullen silences and negativity- until the kids and myself leave and go out- get out to leave that damp chill behind- to go bask in the sunny dispositions of female relatives and beachside swingsets. Today I was frantic to leave. Normally Geoff and Sophie share a special Saturday morning activity- either art class or music class- then they stop at starbucks before they get home. This marks their special time together for the week and they both do enjoy it - thank god. Today's class was cancelled which I only found out yesterday, and so today I was like, jesus, we need to get out of here! We shared a wonderful day in Santa Monica with sister Karen- a windy cool day at the park near the airport, caramel milk at Starbucks and a new pair of toddler Vans for Soph- size 7 and a half. Tomorrow will be out to my mom's house for more park time and fawning over my fast growing, second born love boy. The weekends here are torturous which is why we escape- when Monday returns the house is ours again- to mess up, to watch the little einsteins in, for Sophie to grab sippy cups to play with in Alex's bath water in the kitchen sink after he has been cleaned up, to snort and laugh and make each other crazy.
My life has this insane polarity. (From dictionary.com- 2. the presence or manifestation of two opposite or contrasting principles or tendencies.) Nameless adoration and devotion for these human creatures I carried in my body, and complete alienation coupled with solid fear of losing this life I have built with this man I married 8 months shy of 10 years ago. I need him in so many ways and still love him as I did when we were babies ourselves, 22 and 23 years old. We were so carefree then, smoking cigarettes, hanging out at Topanga Days, me in long pale pink hippie skirts, Geoff tan from hours in the community pool, thin and spending hours playing the guitar, waiting tables. That couldn't last forever- we had to grow up. I would never have been happy still living that life. I don't understand how he can pine for it in such an idealistic way- we were broke and renting crappy apartments/guest houses, no money for travel, and just getting by. It was lean and scrappy and there were very few choices save which day of the music festival should we go to?? Don't get me wrong- it was wonderful in so many ways- big, passionate kisses, lots of candles burning into the night, poetry and songs, bars and shows. But all of that was finite- I mean, that didn't last beyond our mid to late twenties for christ's sake!
baby has awoken- time to nurse him back to sleep...
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