Overwhelmed and Wallowing in Self-pity

Sometimes, when I'm feeling annoyed about my life, I get sick of comparing myself to others and telling myself that I'm relatively lucky. Sometimes I just want to feel sorry for myself.

Like last night, for example. I let it all come down, I got good and cranky, and I bitched for awhile. I just needed to. I know our problems right now are tiny, stupid and not worth worrying about compared to people who have just lost a parent or child, or to someone who can't walk, or to someone who has a terminal illness. I know this. But last night I lost that perspective for a few hours.

Jono is losing his job. His work has been patchy ever since this past Winter, when he started having a few days off here and there because his crew couldn't find work. While this was happening, he started thinking about going back to school again - something he'd been wanting to do for years. He wants to get a Masters degree in Public Administration with an emphasis in Urban Planning.

We sat down and tried to figure out how we would pay the bills and take care of Jude under those circumstances. After going over every other option we could come up with, I came to the conclusion that even though I was formerly committed to staying home with the babe, cooking from scratch, and all that other good stuff that constitutes simple, healthy living, the only way Jono could pursue this goal would be for me to go back to work full-time to put him through school. We're hoping, of course, this translates into a better job for him that fulfills him more, and once that happens we can continue building our family and pursuing our values of simplicity and all that.

If Jono gets into school, the current plan is for him to become a full-time student and a part-time stay-at-home dad (otherwise known as a SAHD... for those of you who love acronyms). We figure we will need to hire out some daycare when Jono has an important exam or a day-time class, but for the most part, Jude will continue to be cared for by one or both of his parents, which is important to us.

Sounds good, right? So what was I feeling sorry for myself about? It's just a change of plans is all, and I needed to adjust my expectations for the next couple of years. I know I will feel guilty for leaving Jude for eight hours a day. I know I will feel conflicted on a daily basis.

There's also a little salt in my "OCD" wound right now as we try to finish up our disaster-area of a kitchen and the paint job on our house (why we start major home projects in the middle of our already chaotic life at the moment, I don't know). In my miserable, self-pitying state last night I said to Jono, "I'm frustrated right now because honestly, I don't ask for much. I don't want new stuff or a bigger home in the suburbs, or a huge career, or WHAT HAVE YOU. I just want to take a nap once in awhile; I want a kitchen where my stuff is where I can find it; I want to live in a place where there isn't broken glass sitting on top of my books by the windows you're fixing; I don't want to move ever again when I'm nine months pregnant; I'm sick of endless home projects; I just want to hang something on the wall; I want to have time to sit outside and do nothing once in awhile; I want a peaceful life..." (insert violins here).

Jono was good enough to comfort me, even thank me for committing to going back to work, and then convinced me to take a load off and watch an episode of The Office with him on Hulu. God bless him.

I'm more or less over it this morning. It's amazing what a semi-decent night of sleep can do for you. I still want to take a nap instead of logging paid hours while Jude sleeps. (This blog is one of my few indulgences. I really should leave it alone and take that nap...). But, there's light here.

I am married to someone who works harder than anyone I know, and he's the best dad ever to our son. At least he has goals, and they're cool too (urban planning is fascinating and good planners are needed badly in our cities). Some women go back to work full-time at six weeks post-partum, and I'm about to finish my 8th month home with Jude. I have a good part-time job at a non-profit, with a great boss who is willing to take me back full-time very soon in a bad economy. We've had so much help getting into and fixing up our house from our dear families. We could never have done it on our own, which I guess is a good lesson in interdependence.

If Jono can get into school, graduate in a couple of years and get a good job, we'll be in great shape because our home expenses are so low. And eventually I'll get to be home again for awhile, I hope, and continue with my psuedo-Amish lifestyle of gardening, taking care of my kids, getting good, local food & canning it, drying our clothes on the line, writing for fun, spending my days hiking around outdoors somewhere with the bambinos, small-scale activism and other reverse-evolutionary activities ;).

I still struggle with feeling like I'm not a true feminist at times (or that feminism threw the baby out with the bathwater), but mainly, that's what makes me happy right now - so I'm over it. As much as I enjoy my desk job, I don't need one to feel fulfilled. I hope that's okay.

*Sigh*