Once again my blogging has been put on hold for a little while. This time it’s not a child-related multitasking issue but rather a matter of red tape waiting. For about 6 months I’ve been “self-employed” but in a job with a lot of restrictions. I’m not supposed to have adds on my blog anymore. Seeing as I’ve been blogging for close to 5 years with these adds, I’m asking for special permission. Waiting, waiting. There’s always something to think about isn’t there. Then again it really doesn’t matter. In the grand scheme of things very little matters.
Do you ever look at the news (for example the terrible destruction in Nepal from the massive earthquake) and think, “gee, most of my life is meaningless?” I do this a little too often.
On the weekend I had a mild disagreement with my husband that went something along these lines.
Me: I need a break from the baby
Him: then get a job
Me: I have a job
Him: get a real one
Me: I can’t
him: then shut up.
We communicate well don’t we. That’s what happens when you’ve been with somebody for the best part of 11 years. We read between the lines.
This is what we really meant.
Me: The baby has been very sick and teething and has been hanging off me so much lately I fear I might actually spontaneously combust into a massive ball of burning lava if you ignore this ‘wifey needs a timeout’ sign any longer.
Him: What do you think I do all day woman? I drive to work, work hard, and drive home. When I get home I look after the kids and help you with the house work. Don’t be so ungrateful.
Me: I’ve been working very hard on my independent sales consultant job and I feel that because I have been doing that you need to pick up some slack because it’s not fair if I pick up extra work and you don’t.
him: please don’t expect any more of me, I’m stretched as far as I can be. If you don’t like things the way they are, change them.
Me: but I want to be able to drive my daughter to school and pick her up and continue breastfeeding the baby and I like getting to know the kids and William is always so sickly he’d be sent home from daycare so often I’d never get a full day at work anyway. Even if I did manage to get a job, which, really, who would actually hire me. Besides, I still have an aversion to full-time pants-wearing.
Him: then shut up.
So this morning after the school drop off and hanging washing on the line, I was a frog, squatting on the concrete and jumping up and down singing “galoomph”. This is how I spend my days. It might not be a lot to some people but for my little ones, and for myself, at this point in time, this matters.