He's Right There
You ask: how depressed are, Mel, exactly? Let me tell you.
I cleaned my kitchen sink with a toothpick.
I cried in the bathroom and when Babygirl said, "What are you doing?" I said, "Nothing." She blinked at me a second and said, "You are so sad?"
I sorted through the ever-present kitchen counter mess and left tidiness in my wake.
I washed the cabinets and swept the floors and folded laundry and picked up the disaster area also known as the Boys' Room.
I sent an email to my husband with the subject line "I am an idiot" and included the helpful advice "Do not use your debit card," and ended with the hopeful thought, "Maybe if you are lucky, I will die young and you can replace with me someone competent."
I realized during a moment of clarity that cleaning makes me feel better because if I were to just leave, my replacement wouldn't judge me so harshly. Unfortunately, I'll never have my house clean enough to abandon.
So, when my husband called and said, "Hey, chin up! No problem! Don't worry! Everything's fine! Cheer up!" I responded with muffled sobs and, "Well, I can't promise that, but I will be here when you get home." Then I shined the kitchen counters one last time and took the toddlers upstairs for a nap.
During naptime, Babygirl squirmed and used diversionary tactics to postpone the inevitable. As she usually does, she put a hand on my shoulder and looked into my face and said, "I want you!"
I reassured her, "I am right here. Snuggle next to me."
She repeated later, "I want you!"
I said again, "I am right here!" and I admit it was with a little exasperation. Our backs were touching. We were breathing the same air. I WAS RIGHT THERE!
And then I started to cry again, this time removing the remainder of my mascara with my tears because I thought that I am exactly like my two-year old. I whine to God, "I want You! I want You!" and He says to me, "I am right here. I am right here." And I think He says it without exasperation, since He is more patient than me.
The kids brought home a paper from school last night. I found it on the counter this morning. It reads, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)
I hung it on the bulletin board next to the phone where I can see it because sometimes I feel like I'm alone, even though God's right here, whispering in my ear.
I cleaned my kitchen sink with a toothpick.
I cried in the bathroom and when Babygirl said, "What are you doing?" I said, "Nothing." She blinked at me a second and said, "You are so sad?"
I sorted through the ever-present kitchen counter mess and left tidiness in my wake.
I washed the cabinets and swept the floors and folded laundry and picked up the disaster area also known as the Boys' Room.
I sent an email to my husband with the subject line "I am an idiot" and included the helpful advice "Do not use your debit card," and ended with the hopeful thought, "Maybe if you are lucky, I will die young and you can replace with me someone competent."
I realized during a moment of clarity that cleaning makes me feel better because if I were to just leave, my replacement wouldn't judge me so harshly. Unfortunately, I'll never have my house clean enough to abandon.
So, when my husband called and said, "Hey, chin up! No problem! Don't worry! Everything's fine! Cheer up!" I responded with muffled sobs and, "Well, I can't promise that, but I will be here when you get home." Then I shined the kitchen counters one last time and took the toddlers upstairs for a nap.
During naptime, Babygirl squirmed and used diversionary tactics to postpone the inevitable. As she usually does, she put a hand on my shoulder and looked into my face and said, "I want you!"
I reassured her, "I am right here. Snuggle next to me."
She repeated later, "I want you!"
I said again, "I am right here!" and I admit it was with a little exasperation. Our backs were touching. We were breathing the same air. I WAS RIGHT THERE!
And then I started to cry again, this time removing the remainder of my mascara with my tears because I thought that I am exactly like my two-year old. I whine to God, "I want You! I want You!" and He says to me, "I am right here. I am right here." And I think He says it without exasperation, since He is more patient than me.
The kids brought home a paper from school last night. I found it on the counter this morning. It reads, "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)
I hung it on the bulletin board next to the phone where I can see it because sometimes I feel like I'm alone, even though God's right here, whispering in my ear.
posted by Melodee at Thursday, January 13, 2005
6 Comments:
Maybe you don't realize what a full plate you have? You are in a stressful situation even if much is good stress that you would never want to change. This too shall pass -- almost before you know it. A moment, an hour, a day at a time.
Just wondering if you have any sort of getaway couple time, just an hour or two per week? What about me time? You obviously find time to blog, but is there any other built into your day?
The Meddlesome Anvilcloud
Thank you, "meddlesome" commenters. :) Actually, this is my most depressed day of the year (you gals will especially understand). I'm fine, really, especially since I blogged. To answer the questions: I do try to get out of the house every week. My husband and I always resolve to do better at having "dates." The best intentions, right? Anyway, thanks everyone. Things are not as dire as they seemed when I wrote them, but it's always good to harnass that sad energy before it passes. It's therapy for me. I know you understand. --Mel
That's one of my favorite verses-
Hang in there!
Mel, I can relate. Hang tough.
What do you suppose Baby Girl is attempting to communicate when she says "I want you"?
Suzanne
I can never get my house clean enough to abandon either. That is my family's guarantee that I am here to stay... :)
(((Hugs)))
I know you'll be feeling better soon...
hugs!
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