Well, I can't say that I haven't had some blogworthy ideas lately, but I haven't felt like actually blogging them. I want the ideas to be "out there," so to speak, but without the effort of actually posting them--you know, typing in the URL, clicking "New Post" . . . That's where I get stuck. Once I'm here, it's like rolling off a log. Especially when I use tired cliches like that.
I thought about posting for Thanksgiving, but I couldn't decide whether to post something negative about how holidays raise false expectations or muster up some things I'm thankful for (I do have a number but posting them might seem a little redundant) for a sentimental post (actually, Chris strikes a nice balance here!). . .
I had one in my head about Sesame Street, in reference to this article, and one about the response I wrote to a company (one of the many) that feels the need to address parents' concerns about safety in the wake of the recalls of Chinese-made products. I would still like to post on these, but don't hold it against me if I don't manage it. . .
Here I am, nearing the end of week 3 with my new baby. My husband is getting ready to return to work on Monday. And it's getting tough. The first 2 weeks seemed to fly by quickly and easily. I was recovering well. I had energy. The toddler was sweet. The baby was sleeping a good 4+3 hours a night. And I could reminisce about the birth experience. All I had were minor annoyances--the normal postpartum stuff and then the limitations that I have been gradually ignoring: not picking up the toddler, not leaving the house with the newborn, that kind of thing. But reality is setting in. When I'm not holding one child, I'm holding the other one. Sometimes I'm holding both (though when I'm not tired, that can be really sweet). If I'm not nursing one, I'm looking for something the toddler will eat or feeding my baby's milk supply (most of the time, actually. . .). I feel both in demand and completely useless, since I've been warming my corner of the sofa/futon for the last 3 months of the pregnancy and the first 3 weeks of the baby's life. If I have any clothes that fits me, it is buried in the Closet-of-Rubbermaids and I haven't been able to access it. So I'm still sporting maternity fashions which, while comfortable, are getting blissfully but annoyingly loose. (I'm only 5 lbs. from my pre-pregnancy weight-which was still too much!)
Things cross my mind, like the dissertation--I wonder when I will finish? The fact that I HAVE to finish. . . Knowing I won't have a job past the spring. . . Knowing that even if English offers me a teaching assignment for the Summer (but these are in high demand and if I'm not a grad student, my chances of getting one are less likely), classes are only offered during the day every day of the week, which would require a perpetual babysitter or away-from-home child care (neither of which is possible). Similarly, next fall and spring (if hired by the department) I may not be able to keep my evening schedule, and I would have to teach at least 2 classes as a lecturer to match my current salary as a grad student. If I get hired by anyone else (which would necessitate applying), my problems will be worse, because I don't want my babies in daycare. But then at least I could afford it, might be able to limit it to 3 (part-)days a week, and my baby would be a year (give or take). I'm also worried about not being home 2 or 3 evenings a week in the Spring (because of teaching), the impending expiration of my financial aid, the impending repayment of the same financial aid, and incidentals like needing new tires.
Do I want to stay home all of the time? No. Do I think I could? Not without getting frustrated & depressed. ('Cause that would be different.) And unless my husband found another job that paid $15,000 more, we couldn't do it financially either. (Not being greedy & materialistic here, just thinking about current payments--and that's considering that I just finished a consumer credit program that paid off our first impoverished years of marriage!!) I also worry about simpler things like how to control the rambunctious toddler (or at least keep a good rein on her) and how on earth I will ever be able to leave the house with the two of them. The toddler does not hold hands. She runs in her own direction until forced to do otherwise. My son was not like this. I have visions of loading both children in the stroller (which, having failed to hear from the person who offered to give mer her double sit-n-stand, I ordered for myself. . .) to stroll them from the apartment to the car, 10 yards or so away. . .
So where is that Little-Engine-That-Could attitude? It has gone the way of the Dodo. Actually, it was a pose. I've been putting you all on.
Well, now I have to go clear up my broken water glass that I knocked off the arm of the sofa. *sigh* Will be back to check incessantly for comments. Sometimes I think blogging is an unhealthy addiction.
P.S.--Any lurkers. . . Pleeeeeease don't tell me that God is calling me to be a stay-at-home mom, much as I respect those who I know who are stay-at-home moms!! You may believe it about me if you wish, but I've heard that before, and it's not really helpful nor do I believe it to be true. (It's kind of like telling someone who's married that he should have been a priest, because that's his true calling.) Thanks! ;)