Well, it seems that 2013 has had plans of its own for me, and my little clan. We have been hit by one illness of a kind followed by its cousin and nephew and so on. I have already, repeatedly admitted that I am the worst pregnant woman on the planet. If I am pregnant, that is all I can do. . .I have no energy for anything else. I used to berate myself for this which only made me even more miserable. I need to work at not excelling at everything, or expecting excellence of myself. (I know that sounds really pompous but it really much sadder than that. I am struggling with my identity since leaving the professional world.)
I didn't not realize that at some point I began to judge myself based on my accomplishments. This was easy when I had a successful career.When I left that career to be a Mama, this became a tad more difficult. I found it difficult to pat myself on the back after a long day unless I had mowed the lawn, mopped the floor, taken Eli to the park, organized a closet, completed a load of laundry and made dinner. .. all the while maintaining a sunny disposition. hahahah. For real. For a while there, my house sparkled and I was miserable.
In reality, if I had succeeded in doing all that I thought that I should complete in a day, by 4:30 I was a troll. I had no patience, no humor, no smile. It was not worth it. I scaled back a little bit. Being pregnant and ill whilst transitioning Evan, I cut back some more. This did not sit well with me. Was I really okay with simply keeping myself and my kids alive? Hip Hip Hooray! Another day and we are all in one piece. .. No. This does not feel like success.
|madness. my days are pure madness.|
|Oh yes. ..see the bags under those weary eyes? Mama is tired!|
For the most part this has worked. I have much more patience with my children despite my continued exhaustion. However, this relaxation of my daily duties has extended to my personal appearance; a side effect I did not realize would present so quickly and so obviously
It is a matter of fact that I make here. I am not shocked or embarrassed about recent events. Perhaps I should be but I cannot be bothered.
Once upon a time I used to get dressed every day. Now, I can spend the week in modified pjs. Once upon a time, I would never leave the house without at least a touch of makeup on. NEVER. This used to grate on my dear hubby's nerves. Well, no longer.
Friday night, the dinner hour was upon me. . .Hubby could not be fussed with telling me what he wanted for dinner. I needed to grocery shop but did not feel up to it. I decided to go and get something. It needed to be gotten quickly so I went as I was. No makeup. Hair.. .shocking. Outfit, equally shocking. I was in pj pants, my father's XL Steelers pullover jacket and my bright red TOMS.
|Photographic proof.. . out of the house. Steelers jacket. . .sans makeup.|
I called my sister giggling all the way to the restaurant. I could not believe I was out in public looking such a wreck. I obviously got over it.. . .even though I did not leave the house today after church, I cannot explain this lovely get-up. Hubby had to good sense not to remark upon it, but perhaps he should have?
|I know the angle is quite flattering. My husband is a lucky man. :)|
Will there be a time when I will have the energy to care about moments like that? Will pride in my appearance return? Lucky for me, my kids do not seem to mind at this moment, but I am sure if this carries on until they are school age, I will hear about it. Surely by that time my energy and pride will have returned. Or have I fallen down that slippery slope, never to return? Can it get worse than this?