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Edited on Wed Sep-05-07 12:38 AM by lostnfound
Grrr.
There are times when having a child and a frankly difficult spouse and a job feels just like a hurricane. Okay, so I don't always check my phone messages. If I happened to have had my house hit by a hurricane, would you expect me to be checking phone messages? My mind shows signs of slipping, my doctor wonders if I've had a stroke and wants to run some tests. At least the strep throat is over, for both of us. My car needs to be inspected, my house needs repairs. My quarterly taxes are past due. My rental house had a fire many months ago and sits idle until I find the time to get someone to repair it. The job -- well, it's all on overload at the moment. Still, I am simply grateful, at the moment, because my family is healthy for now, and I succeeded in finding afterschool care for a couple of crisis days this week (after spending 3 hours reading the paperwork), and progress is being made with the mountain of tasks that need to be done everyday to earn my paycheck. Generally speaking, at the moment, for the moment, LIFE IS GREAT. I ain't feeling sorry for myself tonight because I thought today was going to be pure hell, and it more or less turned out to be tolerable. But then I returned a phone call to a dearest-old-friend-or-relative, to chat.
(Yes, OF COURSE I wish to GOD I were on vacation with her. I am craving it. FAR away from budgets, contracts, consultants; far away in a pretty place; away from the daily regimen of work and school and homework and housework and more work. But: ) No, I can't fly off with you right now, either with or without my son. And yes, it has been over a year. You are always welcome at my house..but you don't like "him". To you, my single/solo relative with no children, the answer to this dilemna is simple. It is my obligation to pack up child and suitcase to visit, or else to leave child at home (ironically, with the adult-in-charge that you clearly think so little of). Well, I wish I could. But..the spouse can't handle it, I think. Not well. For hours yes, but not for days. Well, OTHERspouses do... Again the answer is simple: you should just "dump" him. Ah. Yes, those break-ups and custody arrangements are always so much easier, the solution to everything. (After "dumping", I suppose that a replacement dad can be easily purchased on Amazon.com? Son probably won't even notice the difference?)
If we do get together, will we waste time in unasked-for psychoanalysis of the why's of my life? Here's one psychological dimension: I accept, you reject. It's our modus operandi.
Love -- long-term, committed love -- is a choice, a verb. It's not one that I had ever made before, but I've figured out that it's a chess game that can get tedious in the middle but it doesn't mean you want to sweep the pieces away like garbage and start over. I feel as if we've gone from the generations who said "stay married no matter what" to a culture that feels that it's okay to badger people into getting divorced. Don't people know that sometimes it's hard to stay together but sometimes it's worth it? That it's not meant to be black and white? That loving someone means mutually caring about each other's happiness, not just your own?
Most people know that when you have a newborn baby that there are days that you are barely coping. Maybe I'm defective -- probably -- but several years later, there are still days when I am barely coping -- not so much with the child-rearing, but with the child-rearing as everpresent backdrop to be combined with the other stressors of life. Trying to balance the needs of the child, the spouse, and the job, and not give short shrift to the others in our lives, is just a big more than I am capable of. Okay. Where's the product-return line? The undo button? The desktop cleanup wizard? The 'substitute friend in a box' who could pretend to be me, and go on this mini-vacation? Someone to help make sure my child gets through his reading every night? Can they also find out how to reload his lunch card? Attend the open house and meet his teacher? Figure out why he seems to have lost his manners?
It's all good, it's joyful and great -- but it can be a bit too much. Especially after losing the 50 points in IQ that another one of my relatives said happens when you have children. Hey, I NEEDED those 50 points.
One day, my friend, we will be sitting and drinking margaritas on a beach, enjoying a mini-vacation. Assuming we are still talking.
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