I'm really lost inside myself currently.
This going-to-move, but-not-for-months thing takes a lot out of me.
I get so weary in the waiting. And I don't really know what to do about it.
I mean, I know there is TONS of stuff I want to get done.
Like clear out all the closets. Go through all our paperwork and shred junk that we don't need anymore. And more stuff like that. Plus I've been sewing bow ties for Blake's new job.
But none of this stuff is done because well, I have two tiny girls, who take up my days. I'm trying to be good and fit workouts back in my days. And my nights are still rather sleepless.
And I want to get down on myself for that like, "If you had only....blablabla...then you'd get more sleep." But constantly I need to remember I'm doing my best. And I'm making my best choices. And no matter what worked for someone else (on any certain topic of life) life is not one size fits all. And actually life does not have any rules. (Laws --- yes, like "Thou shall not kill." But rules like --"make these choices" -- no.) And it kills me really, because I love rules and I like to follow them. But then again that's not true, as a kid my brother always yelled at me for not following the board game rules. But I do like order. And I miss having someone be in charge of ME. And I don't always like being in charge of anyone else. I am constantly second guessing if I am doing it right. And now it doesn't just affect me, it affects my husband and my two children. Sheesh. PRESSURE!
I'm trying to calm myself down. I'm trying to get more comfortable with "not perfect" but my personality SCREAMS for perfection. Its like my past time to sit down, look at something, see it for what it is, analyze it for what it could be and should be, and then figure out the BEST way to get there.
That's gonna be a rough go for me and motherhood. I'm still such a newbie, and the start of mootherhood is rather bootcamp like, and I can't figure out a way to take a break (but that's another tangent of brain explosion.) I keep telling myself it gets better. I keep trying to take a break from my personality so I can get a break from this PRESSURE.
I watched this movie "Today's Special" on Netflix. (Kinda cute. Not phenomenal.) And its about this guy who wants to be a chef but needs to take over his family's hole in the wall restaurant. And he meets this guy who teaches him how to lighten up and feel what he cooks not follow the rules. It kinda inspired me to: STOP IT! For heaven sake.
(But then again I can start the whole whirling stupidity about perfecting the "stop it." Its rough.)
Anyway....
Moving.
(Yeah it does go together in my head.)
I want to get into our new phase and get settled. And "start life." So far since being married its all been temporary jobs. This next one is a settle in job. And I'm craving that so bad. I just want it now.
5 more months.
I spend all this time day dreaming about it, and how to make it function once we are there.
But then there are these moments, here and now, when it feels like the worst bandaid peeling of all time. I started out not liking it here. But then we thought we would stay, so I started saying I could love it. And somewhere, somehow, in between those, some of the most amazing things of my life happened. I worked through the biggest terror of my life and saw the biggest victory of my life here. (VBAC.) And in the midst I met some of the most amazing people.
So sometimes I'll be on a walk and the setting sunlight will hit our watertower (with the town's name brazened on it) and it will take my breath away and pierce my heart with an ache so deep I didn't know I had that spot in my heart. And it starts to make it hard to breath, knowing I won't be taking these walks on these streets anymore. And I start to feel confused. And I start to feel shocked to think I may not have another reason to be in this town again.
That it's all over.
That it happened and is done.
AND THEN>>>
I realize I have 5 more months.
And I get scared to fall in love harder and longer.
AND now my scab is kinda pulled off with the band aid, and we need to put a new one back on, and I know its just gonna have to get pulled off again.
Its the longest goodbye.
I don't know.
I'm rambling.
AND
This Blog.
I'm floundering on it.
A few more people have found it and are following it.
And I put pressure on myself to make what I say count. Make it good. Make it important.
And I don't know what you want to hear. And I debate starting a separate sister blog, so I can have one that's more for me, and less for anyone else. (But you could read it if you wanted.) One where I can be more relaxed. One that just talks about my days, and my girls, and how I love them, and how sometimes I can't stand anything at all, but I still love it - I just need more sleep.
And then I think, "well why can't you put that in this blog?"
And maybe I could.
But maybe you wouldn't want all that. That much of me.
Because really this blog isn't ME, me --- Its me-that-knows-things.
SO maybe I need a different blog for me-that-knows-nothing.
Or something.
So I feel in a stand still on what to put on here.
And the serious topics I want to post about take so much time to compile. (And the lack of time....)
But so, in the interest of making sure you don't think I am dead.
I blog today
this random blob of a blog.
And
Because I took pictures.
And its something I "know"
I'll throw this in there:
Have you every heard of a wubbanub?
No?
Me either. Till recently.
It's a really cute pacifier stuck into a small stuffed animal.
I mean, genus! It helps tiny babies hold onto a paci easier. AND it helps you not lose the darn thing.
AND....
Ever heard of a Raz teether?
Yeah, that was new to me too.
I inquired of my facebook friends what to do to help my poor teether a while ago. They all said this thing was awesome.
And it is pretty great.
So I kinda combined the two into my own RAZZYWUBBANUB-thing.
I put a ribbon through the loop of the teether and then sewed it onto one of those security blanket stuffed things.
Mainly in the interest of not losing the teether again.
So far, not lost.
Yay!
My daughter is one year old. And I don't leave her alone with this.
I don't feel she is in any danger of hurting herself with this.
If you want to do this, and your baby is younger you will want to consider if you feel he or she is safe with this idea. And you may want to keep the ribbon a lot shorter.
Anyway:
If you follow my blog and have any thoughts at all, about a second sister blog vs. blathering on and on about more personal stuff on this blog -- seriously let me know. You read this thing. Tell me why you are here. I'll take it very seriously. You mean a lot to me.
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