The flair.

The flair for the dramatic ...that's what I have.

I guess it's not a great idea to post all woe is me my marriage is over on a blog you've ignored for seven months about 20 seconds after the end of a fight.  Because seriously.  I don't think it's over.

I think we're at the point where it can easily go either way.  I see us in the spot where it all goes wrong.  Where we stop loving each other.  Turn other places for much needed attention.  Where it just becomes easier and easier to shut down instead of open up.  And I don't really know how to NOT let that happen when one of us isn't willing to sit down with someone and point out the flaws in our communication so we can make it better. 

We have always been very, very different people.  Different priorities.  Different things that make us happy.  And to some extent, it's worked so far.  I'm having a hard time currently because I feel constantly and totally harrassed.  All the time.  About everything.  The sock on the floor.  The grain of rice on the table.  You name it ...I guarantee I've heard about it.  At least twice.  And honestly?  I want to not hear about it.  I just want some flipping peaceful family time when no one yells or bitches about stuff.

Because I?  Do not sweat the small stuff.   And Monk?  Is diaphoretic over it.  All of it.  Can't let one thing go.   And I don't want my children to be like that.  I don't want them to model their relationships on ours.  That's a sad thing to say ...but it's true. 

My new job ..being the cake walk that it is ....has left me with lots of time to think.  I currently spend my days as a hospitalist.  Taking care of people admitted to the hospital who either do not have a physician or have a physician that doesn't come to the hospital.  You would be amazed by what I see on a daily basis.  On one day last week?  I admitted three people varying in age from 20-50 who came in to the emergency department with some small nagging non-specific complaint and were handed a diagnosis of cancer 2 hours later.  The one girl who told me she felt really silly but was just sort of ...I don't know ..tired?  And maybe a little short of breath?  Had a mass that filled her entire right lung.  She was 22.   And when I deal all day with that?  I want to come home and be incredibly blissfully happy for the good fortune that we have right now.  Because I know that chances are? It is not the good fortune that we will always have.  Those big lung encompassing tumors happen to everyone.  No one gets spared.  Not if you say your prayers at night.  Not if you help old ladies across the street.  They happen to us all.  I don't want to waste one minute when that crap actually ISN'T happening fighting about how someone left a blanket unfolded, a cupboard open, or a smudge of food on the fridge.  Because you know what?  We have blankets.  And cupboards.  And a fridge.  With food in it.  And right now? That should be enough to make us happy.  And if the other stuff bothers you ....fold the blanket.  Close the cupboard.  Wipe the fridge.  Teach the kids about that stuff along the way.  Don't ruin my night, your night, and our children's night by yelling at everyone for two hours.

I don't know how to see eye to eye on this.  I just know that I won't sacrifice peace and gratitude.  We're not here long enough.

Seven Months?

Seriously.  Seven months?  I have a seven month old?  It's sooo strange.  And wonderful. 

To say that I'm a bad blogger is a disservice to bad bloggers.  Because really?  I've not been a blogger at all for the past ...oh ...7 months.  Life here got crazy ...and is just now settling down.   I switched jobs.  Went back to the hospital.  Punch a clock.  Work no overtime.  Make more money.  Work much less hard.  Have no work stress.  Have much less work satisfaction but a lot more mommy satisfaction.  Monk is still not working ....off work from the broken back until March.  Not sure how well it will go when he does go back.  The only good part of that is that he's been home with the baby the whole time.  Not as good as mom being home....but closer than any other option we would have had.

I've struggled with pumping and milk supply since the end of maternity leave ...we're still holding our own without supplementing.  But I'm decidedly not someone that should give advice on how to pump well.  Unless you want advice on how to take drugs to make you produce more milk ....because alas ...we've tried them all. 

Baby A2 is unabashedly wonderful.  His kidney is still huge...but still not causing any problems to speak of.  He's laughing hysterically now.  He loves giving wide open mouth kisses.  My heart melts every time he smiles and reaches for me.  Loving him has been the easiest thing I have ever done.  There's really nothing about parenting him that I find stressful {other than milk supply}.  He doesn't sleep.  Like ...ever.  I've toyed with the idea of sleep training but know that I don't have the heart for it.  And honestly ....the best thing about having 14 years between children is knowing how short this phase really is.  I can cuddle and nurse him through the not sleeping for this short while.  The world won't end.  I'll survive on less sleep.  It is unbelievably amazing to me how healing this little man has been for me.  For my soul.  I think I had myself half way convinced that I would have been okay without a baby.  That I didn't really need one.  That I was somehow faking the ache for one.  And then he came.  And I'm better.  All the way better.   I don't know that I'll ever be able to describe it.

And so I've struggled with blogging...because I'm not really a mommy blogger.  I read lots of mommy bloggers ..find them fascinating even ..but it's not me.  And I can't come to this space day after day and gloat about how wonderful getting to the other side of the infertility hell zone is.   I think of things I want to post often ...write ...and never hit publish.  I don't know why.

I came here tonight after a fight with Monk.  The marriage?  Is struggling.  Badly.  And I don't know how to fix it.  There are no major issues.  No cheating.  No lack of money.  No infidelity.  No abuse.  There's just no connection anymore.  I've requested ...demanded ...counseling.  And he said no. 

I found myself again in this baby.  Our baby.  I've lost my marriage.  And found myself here.  So maybe I'll start blogging again.  Maybe.