There were a lot of physical things about motherhood that I felt well-prepared for when Roscoe was born. What the woman's body goes through during pregnancy, labor/delivery, post-partum, what to expect when nursing a baby, etc. I spent hours and hours researching those things. I didn't go through any post-partum depression or anything, and for the most part, really tried my best to enjoy the transition.
But one thing I wasn't at all prepared for--and really didn't even give a passing thought to--was what it was going to be like being "grounded."
A month or 2 ago I figured up that in the first 6 months of the year, Mark had been gone for a total of 3 months. All of those trips were spaced out and for military training of one form or another. That wasn't always easy, but it was definitely do-able. Now he's planning to take a trip up to Maine in October. This is a good thing. It's for pure enjoyment. After months (literally) with only 3 days off (that I can remember), it'll be good for him to step away from all forms of work and relax at his family's camp.
But (with the disclaimer that I in no way begrudge him this time), I can't help but be extremely jealous and slightly whiny at the fact that he gets to take a trip by himself. That whiny side of me says "but you're aaaaaalways gone. Can't it be my turn?" But it hit me when we were discussing the logistics of the trip that I can't do what he's doing. Even if I wanted to right now, I can't just step away from life and take a trip by myself. There's a baby who's still dependent on me primarily for nourishment. And he's pretty attached, too.
That's when I start thinking through what I do. Pretty much every day, wake up, take care of Roscoe, let the dogs out and feed them, start the load of diapers, tend to Roscoe a little more, tell the dogs to stop fighting, put Roscoe down for a nap, put the dogs outside, go hang the diapers outside to dry, wash dishes, wash laundry, clean the house, feed and tend to Roscoe again, get everything in order for dinner, play with Roscoe a little, put him down for an afternoon nap....... blah blah blah. The list goes on.
Don't misunderstand me, I'm not saying "staying at home with Roscoe is a drag and I wish we hadn't had him." But I most definitely wasn't prepared for the utter mundane-ness of being at home the same way every day. If there are no groceries to buy or if there's no convenient time for a walk in the park, then I don't even get to see anything interesting... like a traffic jam. Yes, something most people find annoying would probably entertain me a little.
My head knows to look for the gospel in every situation, but sometimes it's hard for to me speak it to myself in the midst of my own situation. It's as if (at least in my mind) motherhood is best represented by a coin. There's the side with all the joys and excitement, but also the side that represents confinement. You can't just pick one, it's all wrapped up in the same package.
I was talking to Beth about this the other day, telling her that it's something I haven't felt prepared for in being a mother. And she told me you can't really prepare yourself for it. It's just something you deal with when you get to it. I'm sure that's like a lot of things in parenting. Each stage brings its own joys and heartaches. I guess that's all part of the excitement of the journey.
For now I'm going to try to look at the whole picture, and remember that this one season of my life isn't representative of the whole.
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