Motherhood and The Blues

My husband and I had a bad fight. The kind of fight that sends you off limping and licking your wounds. The kind that makes you wonder whether the wounds are fatal to your relationship. They never are, but you wonder.

I just wrote a post about my tendency to push myself beyond my limits, which turns me into a little dictator and my family into my little minions.

The opposite is also true. I get mired down in the tar pits of inertia. Life's challenges set up camp in my head and I react by retreating. The sink full of dishes goes undone, emails remain unanswered, writing gets neglected. 

My heavy heart feels like a character defect, unworthy of my compassion. I am reminded just how flawed I am. 

Sometimes, I wish that I could be relieved of the responsibility of caring for my daughter...just for awhile.

It's a frightening thing to say. I feel more scared by my reaction to life's rough spots, since having Claire. I can only hope that by speaking of the less savory sides of myself, I can give them voice and let them go.

I desperately want to find a balance between so many things:

taking care of me and taking care of my daughter

showing my daughter that I am a flawed woman, while being a safe, constant presence in the world for her

teaching her that we are all complex and weak, while striving to be a good example of what's right about humanity as well. 

I tell myself that my daughter won't be deeply scarred by a sink full of dishes. I remind myself that I have chosen to let some things go, so that I can focus what little extra energy I have on her. I remember that I don't withhold any love and attention from her, when I feel this way. I know she's too young to know that there is a sink full of dishes anyway. God has given me time.

But what if I don't get my act together in time? All I can do is believe.

I don't aspire to be like Donna Reed. We will never be the Cosby's. I know that George and I are not going to stop fighting every now and then. I know that life is going to have its challenges.

That's all ok. But I want Claire to learn to be more resilient than me. Hell, I want me to be more resilient than me!

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Photo Source: Artemis-Twitches, Deviant Art.  License This photo has been altered and does not suggest that the licenser endorses me, its use, or this blog.