It's 10:13pm and we both had full days...me with school stuff and a workshop I decided to take at the Hayward Gallery, and Carrie with tying up our moving lose ends and taking care of our overtired and not sleeping well or enough child. We are in the thick of the moving stress and it seems near impossible to get all the things done with this daily blog, putting up our work in the show, writing my reflective essay AND packing and all that moving entails. Carrie made a roast chicken with potatoes, carrots and onions and began a stock for us to make soup with this week. I felt really great about doing the workshop (The School for Perfect Strangers) for myself, feeling as if it was totally worth it even though it took up 8 precious hours over these past two days because it was something for me and I got to integrate my interests in art, performance and alternative education. So I felt wonderful about taking this time out for myself amidst the crazy, but then came home to find Carrie worried that I was an hour late (dead cell phone battery so I couldn't call). It was the kind of worried that makes you mad when you find out the person is fine. So instead of sharing how much fun it was to do the workshop and then have drinks and a lovely, lively chat with the artist Simon Fujiwara afterwards I felt defensive and annoyed that she was upset and annoyed with me. The annoyed circle of annoyedness? And the day started out so nicely with Carrie placing her hand over my heart and sending me big love (I was already alseep when she typed up last nights blog—so she waited until this morning).
I know we will be in a better space tomorrow and I can share some of the wild and fun things I got to do, but as I type this I'm realizing how easy it is to allow resentment to form between you and your partner that is really not about each other. Maybe resentment is too strong a word, or maybe not. I love being a parent and I adore my child and the family we have created with her in our lives. I don't love being tired all the time or having so little energy I feel like I'm physically, mentally and emotionally always on the brink of exhaustion. I think it becomes easier for us to take out feelings of resentment on each other because we don't want to have any towards Gryffin. So what do you do with that? Right now I'm just praying that this is the hardest part, these first few years. However, parents of older kids tell me, “it doesn't get easier, it's just different.” When I hear this from them I want to scream “NOT HELPFUL” but instead to soothe myself into a false sense of hope, I dismiss their idea and chalk it up to them not clearly remembering how hard the first years are. (If you happen to ask me about this in the future I'll do my best to reassure you because sometimes false hope is better than no hope.) For now, I've done today's blog and can head off to bed. Tomorrow Carrie will read this and maybe we'll talk about it.
[PD: I'm sorry I was late and it worried you. I know how that feels and it's awful. I'll try to be better about charging my phone. Thanks for taking care of G and for making us good food. I love you.]
I know we will be in a better space tomorrow and I can share some of the wild and fun things I got to do, but as I type this I'm realizing how easy it is to allow resentment to form between you and your partner that is really not about each other. Maybe resentment is too strong a word, or maybe not. I love being a parent and I adore my child and the family we have created with her in our lives. I don't love being tired all the time or having so little energy I feel like I'm physically, mentally and emotionally always on the brink of exhaustion. I think it becomes easier for us to take out feelings of resentment on each other because we don't want to have any towards Gryffin. So what do you do with that? Right now I'm just praying that this is the hardest part, these first few years. However, parents of older kids tell me, “it doesn't get easier, it's just different.” When I hear this from them I want to scream “NOT HELPFUL” but instead to soothe myself into a false sense of hope, I dismiss their idea and chalk it up to them not clearly remembering how hard the first years are. (If you happen to ask me about this in the future I'll do my best to reassure you because sometimes false hope is better than no hope.) For now, I've done today's blog and can head off to bed. Tomorrow Carrie will read this and maybe we'll talk about it.
[PD: I'm sorry I was late and it worried you. I know how that feels and it's awful. I'll try to be better about charging my phone. Thanks for taking care of G and for making us good food. I love you.]
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