My Messy Life

>> 11.08.2012

I had a mini-breakdown yesterday. I suppose it wasn't as dramatic as that might sound, but it sure felt that way in the moment. My parents had come over for a visit. Ada had only napped about 20 minutes and proceeded to whine for a long while about her sore gums.

Teething -- poor girl, but poor mommy, too. Sets me over the edge every time.

The house was also a complete d.i.s.a.s.t.e.r -- and I'm talking intervention-style in the third bedroom, which for months has been used as overflow when we've "cleaned" for weekend guests. A cat thew up on the carpet and then continued throwing up on Ada's farm puzzle. I had a huge, stinking bag of diapers waiting to be washed. Both our cars have check-engine lights flashing, we have had zero groceries, and I hadn't gotten any of my work done.

I'm sure there's more. Then I tripped over this and it hurt. A lot!


I realized at that moment that something needs to change. This has been brewing for a while. I'm taking on a lot right now with my at-home job, my new photography business, blogging (which sounds frivolous and ridiculous pegged as a stressor, but it is a small portion of my income), and then house and mom-related duties.

The whole "staying home" part of the SAHM title doesn't feel like it applies to me sometimes. Whenever Ada's awake, I need to have at least one eye trained on her (we don't have a suitable/safe place to let her go wild, unless we invest in a cage) and when she's sleeping -- naps or at night -- I'm working.

I'd like to read a book, please. Not one of these again either.

The house is in shambles as a result. Clutter, bits of Ada's chopped food tossed on the floor, and mountains of everyone's clothes EVERYWHERE. People tell me to not be so hard on myself. To give myself credit. That all moms have been there -- working or not. That having kids inherently means disorder. That I won't get things the way I'd like them to be in the foreseeable future. To enjoy the ride and worry later.

I get that.  
All of that.
I really, really do.

I don't even care -- in theory -- that the house is messy. I'm not trying to impress anyone. But being home all day means I'm amidst the chaos. Steeping in it. That I have time to see how it reflects how I'm feeling on the inside. That my life . . . is a mess right now.

I'm making it a priority to clean it up. The tangible and intangible. Where to begin! I hope to write more soon, but I'm off to be productive.

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