In the days BE (before Ezra), I naively imagined that this little person was going to slot right into my existing life. That I would make no changes barring adding a bit of pint-sized furniture, that he would come with me wherever I roamed, that I would feed him in restaurants and change him in public bathrooms, that people would look at me with amazement, wondering how I did it, as I continued to work full-time, study part-time, do my own housework and keep up socially with all and sundry whilst balancing a baby on one hip and a bowl of homemade, homegrown-veggie soup on the other. Stupid, stupid little twit.
I didn't go back to work. I packed up my studies. I got a maid. And honestly, I had no idea that there were miners trapped in Chile until three days after they were freed even though it was apparently splashed all over the global news. No surprise to hear that I haven't a clue what is going on in the lives of my friends either.
When I thought about being a stay-at-home-mom, I really didn't think that I would racking up endless days of almost zero productivity. I didn't think that I would have to wait for my son to nap before I could have a shower or hang up the washing or vacuum the lounge. Or that I would have choose between those chores some days. I didn't think that my weekends would never really feel like time out, that I would be desperate for someone to babysit for a day, an hour, even just five minutes while I go to the loo!
I thought I would resent my son for any pieces of my life that were stolen from me, but I was wrong. Instead, I resent my husband for going out to work and leaving me here alone. I resent him and his parents for saying that this would be best for us all. I resent my mother for promising to spend weeks with me so I can get on top of things and then never arriving. I resent my maid for not coming to work regularly. I resent the dogs for barking, the birds for singing, the grass for growing too fast. I resent my couches for not matching, my car for not staying clean, I resent Facebook for its 'Lose your belly fat' adverts even though my baby weight is long gone.
And then I realise that being happy means there is no place for resentment. That I'm not the only mom that has ever felt this way. That I wanted this baby and this life.
Two very important things happened this week. The first was an ass-kicking and a vote of confidence from an unexpected quarter (thank you Sheldene). The second was that I gave myself a break from analysing my life and just lived it. And it was wonderful.