What a Life!

Every good contract has an escape clause – you know, where they agree on what will happen if one of them turns out to not like the deal they’ve just signed. They hire the coach and if he goes 3-9 instead of 9-3, it’s how much money he gets if he gets fired. Or something like that.

So yesterday I had my postpartum appointment with my midwife. One of the questions she asked me was if I was getting enough rest. Well, Joey only gets up once or twice every night – once in the middle of the night and once early in the morning when I usually just give up and stay up, which is why I can say he only gets me up once. I told them that second time may be 5:24 a.m. or something, but that’s okay because I am known to go to bed at 9:00 p.m. or 8:17 p.m. or even earlier than that sometimes.

“So it sounds like you’re getting enough rest,” she said.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“And how’s your mental health?” she asked.

Let me tell you… My mother has always wanted to ride those donkeys that go down those trails on those narrow ledges of the Grand Canyon (something that the mere thought of scares me to death). We’ll just say that I am as close to the edge of my sanity without falling over the ledge into insanity. Really.

I mean, I may seem like I’m doing okay. And no, I’m not in crisis mode. But I feel like I’m an inch from it. I have a newborn who insists on being held whenever he is awake and will cry as though no one ever feeds him, changes his diaper or much less ever holds him if I put him down for one second, even if I just changed and fed him and now I need to go to the bathroom so you’re just going to have to tough it out, little one. Add to that a three-year-old who loves doing his version of “circuit training” – that is, he goes around the house doing thing after thing after thing that he knows he isn’t supposed to do, but you can never give him a warning and then follow through because he discontinues the bad behavior you’re currently warning him about and starts up with another one.

I haven’t cooked a single evening meal yet.

The house is not tidy when Steve comes home from work.

Even if I cleaned the house a bit earlier before he came home, it would just be untidy again by the time he got here.

I put Joey down when he finally goes to sleep, and I’m tired. I need to rest. And Ben is getting into things so I can’t really rest. I do little things, like a load of laundry or carry the mail downstairs or something like that. So I can list things that I’ve actually accomplished during the day. But it is never enough.

And knitting? Knitting is where I maintain my mental health. Mindless forming the stitches on my needles gives my brain a chance to wander and think and solve all those problems I would never otherwise have time to think about. Knitting is how I maintain my sanity. But every time I try to sit down and relax and knit a little, either a three-year-old misbehaves, a baby wakes up, or there’s something else that needs to be done…like putting the dishes in the dishwasher or trying to figure out what everyone is going to eat for supper. So I never get that down time that I so badly need. The little knitting I have done, I was constantly distracted so it didn’t really help.

I told my midwife that if I felt like I was actually about to lose it, I would call my doula. And I will do that if I need to. But after I got home, I decided that I would also go out and buy yarn for a big project like a cardigan for me. There’s a pattern on the cover of the latest issue of Interweave Knits that I’ve been drooling over. I would get yarn for that. I would pretty much follow the pattern and not drive myself crazy changing it to make it better (though I would lengthen the sleeves to go to my wrists instead of being 3/4 sleeves). And I would sit and knit for myself until I felt better. Which might be a few days.

Going to Oklahoma last weekend was good for my mental health. I had time to let my mind wander while I drove. I didn’t have a toddler to chase. And there were lots of eager hands willing to hold a baby who for some reason thinks the world revolves around him. So it gave me a boost that I really needed.

But I will say that I’m still riding the donkeys right next to the edge. I should be fine, but if anything major happens, I will fall over the edge. I’m just warning you.

Oh, and my mother-in-law will be spending the night at our house tonight. Today my objective is to tidy the house so it looks nice. Will I clean the house? Maybe. Maybe not. I am one of those who believes that a tidy dirty house looks much cleaner than a cluttered clean house. I will shine the sinks, and if my mother-in-law sees the dirt on the floor, she can just think it got tracked in after I finished cleaning. It really isn’t that bad.

And if she starts lecturing me or telling me how to do things or telling my husband that he made a terrible mistake in marrying me (something she said to Steve’s brother and his girlfriend’s faces…which is why she isn’t staying at their house), she will get one warning: if you say something like that again or if I hear through the grapevine that you complained to others about how we do things at our house, you will never be welcome to stay with us again. If we move to some far away place and you come to visit us, you will have to stay in a motel. Is there any part of what I just said that you do not understand?

I’m not going to get upset over little things. I am not going to be self-conscious about how we operate in our own home. I will not allow her to push me over the edge. If I wasn’t so close to the edge, I might give her two warnings…like three strikes you’re out.

You can tell me I’m being defensive. Maybe I am. But I am simply protecting my turf and my dignity. Thank you very much.

And if I need to, I’ll go buy that yarn and start knitting that cardigan for myself. That’s my Escape Clause. We’ll see if I’ll be needing it anytime soon.

And by the way, donations to be used toward buying the yarn are welcome. Just leave a comment and I’ll email you and tell you where to send the money. Cheers!