Hard times are upon us again. I knew having a newborn in the house would be stressful on everyone. The lack of sleep. The lack of routine. The lack of attention on the other kids. The list goes on. There are nights when I would give anything to calm the baby into blissful sleep. I’m ready to give up and give in to whatever it is that will make us all whole again. But yet I stay strong; true to what I know is the right thing to do, hoping it will pay off in the end. It usually does but I know at some point it won’t and I should have given in or taken another approach instead of sticking to my guns out of pure principle.
The husband is crabby. Angry. I am trying my hardest to beat these baby blues and I’m surrounded by negativity. Today was the worst. I just really wanted to go to church. I needed it. I needed to free myself from the bad and I knew the only way was to go to church. He decided to come with me to help with the kids. Truth be told I was going with or without him. I figured someone would be there to help me if I needed it. I wasn’t worried. I rode through the complaining all the way there. I listened to his sighs of discontent during the service and I resisted the urge to slap him when he said he was having the worst day ever. Going to church and then to my parents for lunch was a waste of his day.
Everything I’ve said in the past few days has been wrong. He’s so defensive. Finally today I asked him if there was anything that made him happy. I didn’t receive a response although I wasn’t really expecting one. I asked questions and I was given a very defensive answer . I have to constantly explain myself or defend my question as if I’m accusing him of something when all I ask is how things are going. There is no hidden meaning behind my questions.
After he left for the day I went to my happy place. To a place where I can talk freely with Frank and not worry about who sees us talking or them wondering what might be going on. He’s such a wonderful man. I need him to keep me grounded.