Anyways, this is exactly how I feel right now. The storm is close by and we can see it, we can feel it, sometimes (more often than not lately) we can even feel the gusty wind and splash of rain but so far, with extreme effort, we have managed to keep it at arm’s length.
It’s tiresome. It’s grueling. My husband likes to say that we are in “the survival years”. I absolutely hate that phrase. I know what he means but I also now that how we choose to describe things is going to shape our experience of it, and I refuse to think back later on and remember these years, our kids’ early years, as “we survived them.”
No! I want to cherish their laughs and their cries and their milestones. And I’d like for both of us to be able to laugh the hard times off and be able to hold hands afterwards. To be loving towards each other, constantly, not just on occasions.
But we run out of patience, I snap way too often, he gets defensive as soon as he hears my tone of voice.
It’s f*ing hard. I think I need a Wellness Wochenende! Maybe a few days off from breastfeeding, feeding the oldest, picking up after everyone, etc etc etc will let me come back with charged batteries and will erase the permanent tired look I have on lately.
I want to hold his hand and feel his warm embrace, and enjoy it. I miss us, just us, without the constant stream of honey do-lists and responsibilities. We’ve been together for a decade now, and I’d like to stay with him for more decades to come.
Now, I wish the storm would pass on its way, so we can feel at peace that we came out stronger than we were before.