Parenthood is hard.
I know a collective "Duh!" just went up from people who have been parents for decades (KUDOS to you, by the way), but bear with me.
When I was pregnant, I read all the books, watched all the shows/movies, took all the classes, asked all the questions, and harangued my mother and mother-in-law for their opinions on everything from napping and showering with an infant to "to use a soother, or not to use a soother?". And do you know how much help it was??
A big fat NO HELP.
Oh wait, it did one thing - it let me think, for 9 blissful months, that I was prepared, that I was ready, that I could handle it.
Which is funny, because literally 1 second after the first contraction, I realized I was none of those things, and that I would probably never be any of those things ever again. Period. (Contractions lend a sort of intensity to thinking - never question a woman who is contracting...it would not bode well for your intent to remain living).
Parenthood is so hard, that I have become one of the most unattractive people on the face of the earth.
And no, I'm not talking about the obvious unattractiveness - the unwashed-hair-no-make-up-bags-under-the-eyes-lumpy-bits-galore-messed-up-fashion-sense unattractiveness.
I'm talking about the personality unattractiveness (the other kind is SO much easier to clean up!).
I have become a martyr. Plain and simple.
I work myself to the bone, trying to be superwomanhousewife...and in the end, I become a snivelling, crying, upset, over-worked, disgustingly self-righteous, nagging martyr.
This morning my husband and I had a pretty bad fight about pretty much nothing at all, and the reason for it? The martyrdom shooting out of every one of my orphices.
I don't know how to stop being a martyr (for example, my retaliation so far today for the fight is to clean up our bedroom, and wash, fold, and put away every stitch of laundry in our house...that will SHOW HIM).
I hate martyrs. I hate them with a passion. And I desperately hate myself right now.
I wish that I could stop for sixteen seconds and actually enjoy the fact that today is finally, FINALLY Friday...that my husband loves me enough not to bite my head off when it's all I seem to do to him...and that for 3 days we get to blissfully hang out together as a little family with few if any interruptions (everyone is busy this weekend, so little to no drop-ins from random people trying to see the baby).
That will be my goal for the rest of the day - focusing on the good that is coming my way...
...while washing, folding, and putting away every stitch of laundry.