Month Three & Randomness

I am three months in to blended-family-land.  It really is a whole other world. While he and I have spent many longer extended periods of time alone, throwing kids into the mix- especially with each other- adds a whole other dimension.

I am proud of my kids for being as resilient as they are.  As fun and nimble as they are.  As intelligent and questioning and independent.  Things that I always knew, but see with an even clearer lens now that there are others in the fray.

His daughter is easy going, with a sense of fun and gentleness that reminds me of him.  His son is like him in that while he can talk to people when he has to, he is at the heart an introvert.  But there are other things that I see, that grate on me, that are everything I have heard about his mother.  He is particular, in the way only a first born boy treated like a prince can be.  He must have the last word.  He is entitled and unwilling to entertain the feelings of others.  He’s going to be my biggest challenge.

The house is slowly, slowly being detangled from chaos.  I miss the simplicity of my old house, where I had, after five years of being, achieved the perfect just-so balance of my physical world.  The utter relaxation of having hours in front of me where I didn’t have to account to anyone.  There is very little alone time these days.

Yet, I love him and he loves me in a way that is completely unlike anything I have ever experienced.  He makes me a better person.  He is kind and ethical and considerate.  He would lay across tracks for me and makes me feel safe.


In other news, I am hating my job.  Not the job, exactly, but working full-time. Four days would be saner, three days…all the better.  I am trying to think of ways to make this possible.  I miss the things in my life I used to have more time for.  Puttering.  Writing.  Projects at home.  Cooking in a slower, less frantic way.  And, oh, the garden.


The kids are both at a new school this year.  Grade nine and ten.  So far, so good.  She has made a friend – I am hopeful.  Last year she was a social outcast.  I know that having even one friend will help.  It is a fresh start.


So many things.  I am tired of feeling rushed and depleted and not having the time to take care of myself.  I want to lose weight and dye my hair and seize that high I used to get when I worked out four times a week.  I had that two years ago, but why does it feel so unattainable right now?


It occurred to me the other day that I haven’t had a period this calendar year. Maybe that explains my moods…not depressed exactly, just…uninspired. And I am constantly hot.  I feel like I need to shower twice a day just to be barely presentable.


As nonsensical as my ramblings are this cool, humid night, I am glad I have put them onto my screen.  My fingers are feeling more limber.  This is a start.  My space in a house where no space is completely my own.


I miss the feeling of my cat purring, narrow-eyed on my belly as I lie on the sofa or in bed.

She knows things are different now.


And…in other news…

I had an appointment with my pdoc the other day.  The last time I’d seen her I was in high stress, high parenting crisis mode.  We talked about supports, therapy, etc.  And she asked to see me in a month.

I’m not in crisis anymore–I don’t even think I’m depressed.  But, there’s an annoying low-level of anxiety that flares up in certain contexts, like work (where I’m working in a no-win, understaffed situation which management barely gives lip service too), and of course, when my daughter isn’t doing well.  It is said that you’re only as happy as your least happy child when you’re a parent, and I think that rings true.

It is awful to say, but she does trigger me.  It triggers anxiety and guilt and even despair at times.  At the end of it all, it exhausts me and it takes all my effort to just get the basics done.

So pdoc and I discussed this.  I used to have so much motivation.  I was the one who Got Things Done.  That feels like a lifetime ago.  It’s weird because in my head I feel that there are things I want to do, but then there’s a break in the circuit of actually getting started.

Which…all means that I walked out of her office with a prescription for Wellbutrin.  I’ve been on it before.  It helped.  I know all about dopamine and what it does (woohoo!  let’s PARTY!) and I hope it gives me some motivation back, because fuck knows I have a lot to do in the next while.