It's an odd sensation to be able to acknowledge that your feelings aren't rational or based on reality, and give them room to just float to the surface so you can deal with them and move on. This is funny, because... well, because I am feeling a little pouty, and because I know it's infantile.
But you know what? My ankles are bigger around than my calves right now (and I am not a "petite" woman with slender calves, to begin with), and gosh-darn-it, while I'm okay with embracing the fact that this is a different season of life than we were in nine and a half years ago and we're in a different place, and none of it is bad...
I'm feeling a wee bit neglected in the "expectant mother" category this time around. I can't get a foot rub, or a back rub, or even a sympathetic place to elevate my legs and moan quietly. And to be honest, the pampering from Zorak that I've always received while I was pregnant, well, it kind of made pregnancy a bit more enjoyable for me. Probably made it a bit more work for him, too, which is why I understand that my feeling neglected is infantile. Let's face it...
The man is up and out the door before the sun each morning. He's not a morning person. He does not do this for the fun of it. He does it because he has integrity and does the job he was hired to do. He does it because he loves us and by doing this, he is able to provide this wonderful home and life that we live. If it were solely up to him (and if we would not suffer for it), he would sleep til' noon and work on something interesting after his mid-day coffee. But because we would probably not fare well on that plan, he does the Long Haul thing, instead. How can I possibly complain about that? I can't.
He has a *lot* on his plate. Not only does he drive nearly an hour each way for work, he works a nine-hour day, and then comes home and works-works-works some more. Whether it's on the property, or the vehicles, or on projects with the boys, there is always something to demand his time and attention. Sometimes he is still hard at it well past midnight. There's no burning the midnight oil, because the lamp gives out before he does. Thank God for drop lights. Again, can't really look at that and throw a little fit, now, can I? Nope.
He does not ask much of me, really. School the children well. Love them and keep them safe and healthy. Keep the house running smoothly. Run the kitchen in a manner that won't actually poison anyone directly. Continue to love him and support him and let him know I'm on his team. There's not a hint of the whole "Sleeping With the Enemy" issue anywhere in the man's psyche. (For the record, the spices are organized the way they are because *I* have issues, not him.) ;-) And he doesn't come in and mess them up, either! Do I have it good, or what? I do. I know.
Two, three, four pregnancies ago, we didn't have so much on our plates. We didn't have a home to refinish, or a barn, or a garden or land. We didn't have plans-in-action yet, or large equipment rentals and drainage to contend with. Come the end of the day, we were both just kind-of tired, not I'm-just-going-to-die-here-on-the-couch exhausted.
We also had cable. I imagine being able to watch History of the Gun and Mail Call helps take your mind off the fact that the woman beached on the couch beside you has just stuck her garish feet in your face and started whimpering like a beaten kitten. Yeah, I get that.
So, I'm good with our quality time being spent on box blades and harley rakes (both of which he has explained to me, and I get! Yay!) But I think I'm going to have to go draw a hot bath and prop my feet up and sing along with Raffi to "Baby Beluga" while I pantomime the song with my feet. Pampering yourself still totally counts as pampering. And it won't put more pressure on him right now, either. And come morning, when the swelling has subsided a bit, so will my little whine-and-cheese party.
After all, it's all good. And for a good cause. And in the big picture, this. is. nothing.
Only three and a half weeks to go!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy
10 comments:
Only three and a half weeks?! My goodness, but time does fly!
Oh, Dy! Hang in there. Three weeks is really not so long. You can do it.
Sometimes when I get a bit umm... whiny... (not that you're terrinly whiny.... I'm talking about, me here) I try to plan something special for Marc. It helps take my mind off *my* issues, and focuses me on showing someone else the pampering *I* want. :)
Once, I bought Marc a whole case of his favorite adut beverage. I had a frosted glass ready for him when he got home from work. Another night the boys and I baked a cake, wrapped cheesy presents from the dollar store, put on party hats, and had a "Welcome Home" part for him when he got home from work. Silly, but fun, and helped me focus on other things.
Hang in there!
So, you've been pregnant for almost 50 months now. Whine a little! I'll be there in a few days to help you do it...can't wait.
I like that you've taken your pouty whiny feelings and written them out constructively - reminding yourself of all the good things Zorak does and is instead of just complaining. This is a good lesson for me!
((((Dy)))), I know exactly what you mean about the "no more real pampering from anyone else" thing. Even for the boys, pregnancy is just something Mom does, LOL, like laundry. Or grocery shopping. Nothing out of the ordinary and requiring of special care, no matter how I hint! But I do want their wives to at least have that for their first pregnancies, so I do what I can, LOL.
That was a beautiful tribute to Zorak and his character. He's a good man. But the last few weeks of pregnancy stink, even if you are married to a saint! I'm praying they go quickly for you (because I know the last few weeks of your pregnancy will pass quickly for me!) : ) Hang in there!!
Awww! Zorak is a wonderful man. Absolutely. But being hugely pregnant is a 24 hour a day thing, and, as I recall, those days feel Way longer when you can hardly breathe and someone keeps kicking your innards. I hope he finds that a couple of projects can be put on hold for a bit, so he can massage your poor feet. (We got Netflix when we got rid of all-but-the-bare-minimum cable, and now I have stuff I actually want to watch, on My schedule! If movies are what it takes to get foot rubs, you should have movies!)
What a great post! Thanks for sharing that. Believe me, I know just where you're coming from... well, I'm not quite at the beached whale stage yet (as Matt remarked the other night as we discussed this, I'm just floundering in the shallows - an image that is causing me much mirth even days later) but otherwise, yup.
I hope you enjoy your self-pampering and that this post was as therapeutic as it seems from the viewpoint of this reader!
I forgot to tell you that I read this post aloud to my darling hubby to show how wonderful homeschool dads are. (including him) :-)
Well, being that you are something like 37 weeks pregnant, I'd say a little whining is acceptable! :)
Such sweet words about Zorak, too.
Pregnancy is hard! I like how you encourage yourself.
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