This past week I had some time off of work for the holiday, and it was much needed. My husband, who has less free time than I do, was able to take some time out of his schedule and spend it with the family. It was a rare treat for both me and my daughter, who seems to acutely notice her lack of daddy time as weeks go by. But he was able to play with her, and read her books, and spend the time he doesn't typically have to spend with her, which I think she needed. I also got some time with him to actually talk, and enjoy his company, and that was a nice change of pace as well. We sat on the sofa on Saturday night and just watched movies. Nothing else. Just sat and watched movies together. It's been a long time since we've been able to do that without him multi-tasking on the laptop to get work done. I've missed it.
The holiday didn't really give us much of a chance to slow down, since we host several holiday gatherings and the house needed cleaned, the tree needed to go up, there was food to make and shopping to be done, but when all of that was over, on Sunday when I had a chance to slow down and not focus on any responsibilities outside of my average every day chores, I was able to slow down and appreciate some things. I actually got to sleep in. Truly sleep in, as late as I wanted, for the first time I can remember in a long time. I try to let my husband sleep in as much as possible, because I know how exhausting school and work are, and even though I'm supposed to get to sleep in on Sundays, I never seem to get to do it. There's always somewhere to be, or my daughter has a meltdown and I get up to help deal with it, or I feel guilty that he needs to be working and he's managing her by himself instead, so I wake up earlier than I want to and push on with my day. But this week, I got to sleep in and as I woke up in my bed, under my very nice down comforter, in my large airy bedroom, I suddenly appreciated how nice it can be to sleep late in your own bed. When I got up, I stayed in my pajamas for a long time instead of immediately throwing on some clothes and dashing through my day. I wore my pajamas, and I played on the floor with my daughter. I rolled around with her, and laid in her tent with her while she pretended to go to sleep and then made me kiss her Red Fraggle doll. I tickled her until peals of laughter rang through my entire house, and were met with cries of "AGAIN!" each time I would stop. I read her books, and snuggled with her on the couch. I made her toast, and I laughed as she gave me an enthusiastic "Tank ooo!" when I handed the plate to her. She counted to five on her own, and correctly named some letters from the alphabet in one of her books, then named off all of the colors in her book about colors except for green, which she stubbornly refuses to remember.
When I put her down for her nap, and finally got myself showered and ready to go out to grocery shop and manage the responsibilities I had for the day, I found myself realizing that this might be the happiest I've ever been. Not to say that there aren't struggles, I hate that my husband is never available and that his work and school take up so much of his time, and I wish there was more time the three of us could spend together. I still struggle with having no support system, and not having anyone I can be open or honest with, and that my social interaction comes largely from a nearly two year old, but on the whole, I think this is the first time in years that I can look around say that, yes, I am happy. I am often exhausted, and frazzled, and sometimes at the end of my patience with the world, but this life I have in front of me is pretty beautiful. And it's not one of those mom things like "Oh, I had a baby and suddenly everything was happy" because that's not it at all. It's just that there have been so many years of absolute darkness in recent memory, and it feels like that cloud has been lifted for a little bit, and the sun is having a chance to shine through, and the little things are easier to notice and appreciate than they have been before. I needed that reprieve. I needed a little bit of light. I'm just learning to appreciate it again.
The holiday didn't really give us much of a chance to slow down, since we host several holiday gatherings and the house needed cleaned, the tree needed to go up, there was food to make and shopping to be done, but when all of that was over, on Sunday when I had a chance to slow down and not focus on any responsibilities outside of my average every day chores, I was able to slow down and appreciate some things. I actually got to sleep in. Truly sleep in, as late as I wanted, for the first time I can remember in a long time. I try to let my husband sleep in as much as possible, because I know how exhausting school and work are, and even though I'm supposed to get to sleep in on Sundays, I never seem to get to do it. There's always somewhere to be, or my daughter has a meltdown and I get up to help deal with it, or I feel guilty that he needs to be working and he's managing her by himself instead, so I wake up earlier than I want to and push on with my day. But this week, I got to sleep in and as I woke up in my bed, under my very nice down comforter, in my large airy bedroom, I suddenly appreciated how nice it can be to sleep late in your own bed. When I got up, I stayed in my pajamas for a long time instead of immediately throwing on some clothes and dashing through my day. I wore my pajamas, and I played on the floor with my daughter. I rolled around with her, and laid in her tent with her while she pretended to go to sleep and then made me kiss her Red Fraggle doll. I tickled her until peals of laughter rang through my entire house, and were met with cries of "AGAIN!" each time I would stop. I read her books, and snuggled with her on the couch. I made her toast, and I laughed as she gave me an enthusiastic "Tank ooo!" when I handed the plate to her. She counted to five on her own, and correctly named some letters from the alphabet in one of her books, then named off all of the colors in her book about colors except for green, which she stubbornly refuses to remember.
When I put her down for her nap, and finally got myself showered and ready to go out to grocery shop and manage the responsibilities I had for the day, I found myself realizing that this might be the happiest I've ever been. Not to say that there aren't struggles, I hate that my husband is never available and that his work and school take up so much of his time, and I wish there was more time the three of us could spend together. I still struggle with having no support system, and not having anyone I can be open or honest with, and that my social interaction comes largely from a nearly two year old, but on the whole, I think this is the first time in years that I can look around say that, yes, I am happy. I am often exhausted, and frazzled, and sometimes at the end of my patience with the world, but this life I have in front of me is pretty beautiful. And it's not one of those mom things like "Oh, I had a baby and suddenly everything was happy" because that's not it at all. It's just that there have been so many years of absolute darkness in recent memory, and it feels like that cloud has been lifted for a little bit, and the sun is having a chance to shine through, and the little things are easier to notice and appreciate than they have been before. I needed that reprieve. I needed a little bit of light. I'm just learning to appreciate it again.