I am approaching my 12 week mark of my pregnancy. Thankfully, that also means approaching my second trimester. I thought the emotional turmoil during my first pregnancy was rough...I didn't have a child that can perpetually make me want to weep and scream all throughout every day.
Once minute I can't believe how big Max has gotten and all he's learned and how I see him growing and changing every single day. The next minute, his whining is as irritating as nails on a chalkboard and I want to grab him and shake him and scream at him to cut the shit. I don't actually do that (well, I do weep occasionally. Define occasionally.) but I really feel strongly that he could do me a favor and be a little less of a baby and deal with the fact that he may not get something right the first time or he can't always have a treat or most of his shirts actually DO HAVE TO GO OVER HIS HEAD AND THIS SHOULD NOT SEND HIM INTO A TANTRUM WORTHY OF A TARANTULA CRAWLING ON HIM.
This is hard. Dave's job is causing enormous stress on him and it trickles into our home. Besides the new and unusual circumstances of late that are bringing the additional anxiety home, Dave's job has always been demanding of his time. This has always been difficult, especially since buying our first house. I don't mind being the house wife and taking care of the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc. But it would admittedly be nice to have some more help with some of the bigger projects and things like the yard, painting, etc. But Dave certainly does more than his fair share when he can and I can't ask him to do those things knowing how much he works at his job. I mean, I can, but I try not to. But looking out for Dave's best interest is taxing on me. I don't even like to admit that; we've managed for so long with both of us working full time, and now all of a sudden I can't handle it and I'm not even working outside the home? And how will it be once this little one arrives?
My great-uncle passed away last week. The night before that happened, I was talking with his granddaughter, my cousin, to see what what happening. I was prepared, but still sad. Then I got a phone call from Dave updating me on his work fiasco. Then I got a call from Dave's cousin about his uncle being diagnosed with cancer and needing surgery the next morning. Max was in bed, Dave was still at work and I had a sink full of dishes. So what did I do? I cried. I wept. I felt like I was being tested as to how much I could handle and I was willing to wave the white flag right then and there. I've been broken and no more shit is necessary to prove it. Then the next morning, Uncle Jim died.
He was a great man that I've always remembered fondly. He always made me smile and had a kind heart that he shared openly. The Reinert boys and their families have always been some of my favorite people to visit and I credit their parents, Aunt Margaret and Uncle Jim. It's sort of awkward, or it was anyway, because of our ages. The Reinert boys are younger than my dad and his siblings; the youngest, Matt, was the ring bearer in my dad's wedding. But I still always felt warmly welcomed at any age by all of them. They all have their dad's sense of humor and good will, both of which are important. I wish I was closer to their children, my cousins, but again, the age difference is significant. They are all in or recently out of college, a time I haven't seen in quite some time. Hopefully as time passes the gap will close. But until then, we will bond over our love of my Uncle Jim, their grandfather, important to us all for different reasons.
End Note: This post is a significant peek into my soul these days. Scattered, sad, frustrated, happy, thankful....all within one little block of internet.
