So, yesterday I had a bit of a freakout.
A one month until baby, these drywallers cannot be delayed, I need a handyman, or should I crawl into the attic my pregnant self and just not tell Marc?, oh shit my house is torn apart and I need this work done now, why is my skin so itchy, I'm bleeding, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I can't take this work being delayed, I need a guest room, omg, why is the fish's water so green? FREAK OUT.
This pregnancy has not made me the stereotypical crying, emotional blob you see on tv.
I've been cold. Distant. Self-absorbed and seriously, seriously bitchy.
I'm too hard on Marc. I'm too hard on myself.
I mean, who barely hugs their 2 year old and husband at the airport when they leave for 5 days?
Pregnant me, that's who.
So imagine my surprise when I stood in a torn apart future guest/playroom hearing the words "ok, we can help you this afternoon" come out of the mouth of a really, really nice contractor that I would reciprocate with crocodile tears? And sobs? Like ugly red-faced crying sobs? Can't catch your breath, choking sobs?
It was completely embarrassing, but you know what? It felt good.
Let's be honest here.
My life is in a little bit of shambles right now.
I'm 9 months pregnant.
We don't have a name picked.
I'm *still* not over this cold/flu sick.
We haven't done our Christmas cards.
I have a ceiling fan on my bed.
My house has been under a constant state of renovation for 6 freaking years.
We are broke.
Marc is about to start his 4th job this year.
I'm 34 and don't really have a job I go to everyday. I have a collection of architecture/childcare/blindness/computer/webdesign stuff I do for money.
I'm a neglectful friend/sister/aunt/daughter.
I only shower every 4 days.
I'm very mean to my husband on a daily basis.
My pregnancy coldness was like a big damn holding all the above in. All it took was some unbelievable kindness from two strangers standing in my shambles of a house to turn a tiny crack into a full-on damn failure (except instead of water it was snot and tears and convulsing pouring out).
I think the prospect of adding even 2 more weeks on to the OMG, Let's Make Our Lives Better/Easier Plan by delaying the drywallers was just too much for me to handle. I can wait for our shit to get sorted out, I can wait for life to get easier, I just panicked when it seemed like it was starting to AGAIN slip out of reach.
So my goal is to take the kindness that was shown to me yesterday (with the last minute framing of 2 walls and threading a vent stack pipe up 2 floors into the attic), and give it back. First to myself, then to my hardworking husband, to my daughter(s!) and then to this house. March will come soon enough. We will sell the house. Life will get easier.
(Oh and secondary goal: stop this crying already. I think my tear ducts are trying to make up for the past 9 months of stone-face bitchiness. It doesn't help that Marc keeps sending me photos like these from NYC.)
I shoulda hugged them at the damn airport.
Have a great weekend, I'm gonna try.