Because I don't do this enough anymore. Or ever really.
Because I started crying listening to a country song today. And all the time these days.
Because I am completely done-zo with my two boys for the day and Drew is coaxing them to sleep after a major mommy meltdown in which I gave both boys permission to do whatever they want, eat whatever they want, go to bed never, and be the bosses of their own little lives. Miles was in full blown happy dance by the end of my tirade. Sometimes I am the very.worst.mom.
Can you tell yet what this post is trying so very hard not to be about???
I am off my OCD medication again. On again off again... Baby three or no baby three.... Now or later???? Or never??? When I am taking my medicine regularly it not only helps with my compulsive tendencies, but also brings a healthy dose of the happy-go-lucky with it and I don't hate that one bit. But the problem is that you can't take it while pregnant. Now, we aren't "trying" or anything and I am definitely not pregnant but I am starting to feel like it's nearing the time to get this baby show on the road if the trip is gonna happen. The other problem is that when I am on the medication I feel confident, capable, and even a little excited about the prospect of another little Blimes. But when I am NOT on the meds (which I can't be if I want to get pregnant) I feel like handling my own issues and the two children I already have is more than enough/too much.
So I question what this mean? Does the fact that I feel the need to be medicated to survive motherhood mean I shouldn't even be thinking of another babe? (No idea...) Would I be on the meds whether I had kids or not? (Most likely... yes.) Is Drew getting tired of this conversation over and over again? (Surprisingly no. Or at least he doesn't let on if he does. Again, I married a hero.) So many questions. So many different paths the story could take. Life is really, really hard sometimes.
Don't you love how I go months without posting and then come up in here with some serious, life shifting madness. Real, real, real, I have to keep it real. (There's a catchy tune there.) It's nice to have a place to do so. And with such a diverse readership to glean insight from. Sigh social media buddies. I love your guts.
I have a bajillion details of our lives waiting to explode onto this little blog. I don't want to post a novel tonight though and my house is looking like a landfill. It is getting scary up in here for real.
Suffice it to say, a post needed to be written and as often is the case, I am writing to my favorite advise columnists- you all. Any mothers out there willing to share their similar struggles? Any sage words of wisdom to comfort a soldier on the front lines?