Luna and I went to bed close to five this morning. Around 7-something husband came home and told me he was going to mow the lawn and he wanted me to wash the dishes. Now, to be fair to him, they HAVE been piling up quite high. But, to be fair to me, the pile started BEFORE I went to Texas, at which point he had promised to catch me up on the housework since my trip to Texas was concurrent with his vacation. But I had been picking at the pile since I got back. Each night, when I went into the kitchen to cook dinner, I would wash what I needed to cook and serve the meal, followed by at least 20 other items on the counter. Somehow the pile seemed barely dented, however, which is probably why he felt I hadn’t done a thing, in spite of the clean dishes on the opposite counter.
Anyway, I washed all of the dishes this morning, wiped down the counters and the top of the stove, set up the burner plates in a soak sink, passive aggressively moved to the now-empty dirty dish side the George Foreman grill he’s left dirty since Sunday very early morning, and rotated the laundry (including the clothing that’s been sitting in my car floorboard since I got back from Texas). Oh, and I moved the car before and after he mowed and ran the weed-eater.
While I was cleaning, I had my Windows Media Player shuffling through my thousands of songs. I would have, instead, used my MP3 player, but Luna chewed through the charger for that sometime after we got back from Texas, so now I have no way to charge it and it is, of course, dead. She also chewed through the USB for the TomTom, so I cannot hook that up to any computers for updated software. /sigh
I was grateful that husband decided to take care of the yard work today. When Luna and I were in Texas, husband said we’d received two notices regarding the lawn. He works all night, plays WOW or relaxes in other ways in the mornings, and then sleeps all afternoon and evening before heading off to another shift. Since he has heat issues and the sun is already up by the time he usually arrives home from work, he tends to not want to do the yardwork. Being that I am pregnant, have never mowed a lawn before (I know, gasp!), and don’t want to be the one held responsible if something were to happen to the used lawnmower I bought for him last year, I prefer to leave the yardwork up to him.
After the morning’s chores, I woke Luna up and got her dressed for the day. She promptly climbed right up into my lap to watch cartoons on the livingroom TV. It was neat because Midnight (our kitten) was sleeping under my left arm and not-yet-born-baby was kicking Luna in the head rapidly, which was causing Luna to giggle profusely. I usually don’t like to let her watch them in the livingroom, but her TV is, for some reason, no longer receiving a cable signal and I cannot trust her in the guest room. It was working okay for a while, but yesterday there was an incident involving harmless but messy craft paint and some storage boxes…suffice to say that I want to keep her locked out of that room from now on.
So while she was watching cartoons in my lap, at some point the fact that we’d both gone to bed at five in the morning caught up with her little body and she passed out on my legs. I continued to do what I’d been doing during her cartoon-watching, which was to play on the computer, until the Honey Bunches of Oats: Vanilla Clusters and Lactaid Milk that I’d had for breakfast decided to pull a U-Turn around the same time that not-yet-born decided to use my bladder for boxing practice. I put Luna on the cushion next to me, which of course woke her, and I ran into the bathroom to take care of my ailments.
Luna came in the bathroom asking me what I was doing. I told her I was choking, because that’s what she calls puking and I don’t know that there’s a need to correct this word-choice at present. After I was sure that I didn’t need to hug the porcelain any longer, I cleaned up and washed my face and went through the motions of putting her down for a nap. It had somehow come to be 12.30a or so at that point, so I had her hug and kiss husband goodnight since I knew he’d probably be heading to bed before too long.
I returned to the couch and my laptop, after grabbing a recently washed and dried blanket from the garage. It wasn’t long before I, too, succumbed to the lack of sleep. I guess I really needed the sleep, because I didn’t even wake up when husband locked up his office and headed to bed. I woke up around four when Luna decided she’d had enough napping.
For some reason, after her nap, Luna decided that we needed to go into my office. She had dumped all of the clean laundry all over my office over the course of the last month and I’d been too frustrated or lazy or both to deal with it. Yesterday she’d dumped two more loads out and I had reprimanded her yet again for it, but I had probably gone too far in my frustrated speech, asking her, “Why do you always make more messes for me all the time?” I think she remembered that. I think she wanted to make it right.
Now…the cleaning up of the clothing took until about 8.30p because she periodically changed her mind about helping pick up the mess she’d made. And during the cleanup I discovered non-clothing items, such as the canvases I’d painted Sophmore year of college, were tossed about the room along with the laundry. A Japanese wall-hanging that my aunts had given me one year for Christmas had been dismantled at some point, presumably by Luna. She’s never in that room for any significant length of time, yet she somehow finds a way to be extremely destructive when she’s in there, which is frustrating.
We finally got all of the clothing picked up, folded, and sorted in time for me to cook dinner. I made taco meat, sliced up an avacado, got out the shredded cheese, got out the salsa, got out the flour tortillas, and opened and heated two cans of refried beans into which I mixed some of the cheese. I don’t know how husband felt about the dinner, as he took one burrito in a paper towel on the way out the door and had two others that I’d packed into his lunch kit. I could ask him if he enjoyed the meal, but usually if he doesn’t volunteer a compliment it means he doesn’t like something about the meal and I’d rather not hear it if he didn’t like something.
Anyway, after sending husband off to work, putting away the rest of Luna’s clean clothing, making Luna’s bed with fresh sheets, and tucking Luna into bed (I had her “bye bye” all of her toys into the guest room first), I resumed my post on the couch to play on the computer once more. At some point, I started developing horrible heartburn and other less pleasant pregnancy symptoms, so I got up, made a huge glass of ice water, downed some Tums tablets and some fiber tablets, carried the rest of mine and husband’s dirty clothing from the bedroom to the garage where our washer and dryer are located, and changed into my nightgown.
I just need to put away a load, get another load out of the dryer and put it away, get a load out of the washer and put it in the dryer and then put it away, and then wash a few more loads and I’ll be done. I supposed that’s not bad, considering I’ve put away about ten loads today already…
Now here I sit, wondering how I can be so physically tired and in so much pain, yet not feel the distinct urge to sleep. I don’t know how people used to slave for 18 hours tending to the fields and livestock and raising barns and such, day after day after day. The closest I can come to that is virtual fields and virtual livestock on computer games.
I can’t seem to do the laundry and wash dishes on a daily basis. And the being too tired thing isn’t just connected to pregnancy. It’s possible that I have some sort of health issue related to chronic fatigue. It’s possible that I’m just lazy, or maybe resentful. When I was a single gal, I was able to keep my space and my belongings meticulously clean and tidy. Yet, as a wife and mother, I can’t seem to keep even one room moderately clean. But at least, for today, I have accomplished a great deal. And husband sent me a thank you text, which always feels good.
I don’t want to be one of those women who’s identity is defined by her domestic prowess. But I likewise don’t want to be one of those women who resents the domestic parts of her life. I wanted this…but I also had other dreams. There’s no reason I can’t do both, and give equal time, if I could find the balance. I want husband and I to be together til death us do part; I want us and our children to be happy, well rounded, healthy.
George Strait–She poured her heart an’ soul into their three-bedroom ranch, spent her days raisin’ babies, ironin’ his pants, came home one day from the grocery store and found his note, and without him there to stop her, she let herself go.