All this lying around resting my leg has left me feeling desperate to clean, which is exactly what happened when I was put on bedrest during my last pregnancy. Only then it was for a whole month, which meant people were coming in to help, and also we had no children at that point, which meant no one was running around emptying the bathroom drawers, or scattering raisins and dry cereal throughout the house. So it didn't make me as crazy, even though it was a longer period of time.
Today I have felt somewhat normal, although my knee is still weak and wobbly and my nose is running. But I have put away some laundry, which has been folded and waiting for a week, and I slowly and carefully pushed the vacuum cleaner around a bit to try to make a dent in the thick layer of dust and dog hair and crumbs which seems to have settled throughout our house even as the unseasonal snow was settling outside of it.
The settling of these things, snow and otherwise, has conspired to put me in a very bad mood the last few days. More and more I am realizing what a control freak I actually am, though I would generally deny it. When things don't go how I think they ought to, or happen when I wish they would, it's hard for me to shake the pouty, gloomy mood which takes hold. Which is a nice way of saying, when the dishes are piling up and I can write my name in the dust on top of the microwave, yet I am forbidden to clean and no one else in the house is quite as, shall we say, motivated to do it as I am, I turn into a bit of a bee-otch.
I feel less depressed today, which I am pretty sure is directly related to the sun, which is finally shining again, and the weather, which has finally broken forty degrees after taking a dip into the twenties the last week. It's still cold, but it's like, "Oh, this is a little chilly for April," and not so much like, "Why does God hate the Midwest and play these horrible little games with our heads?"
Anyways... Not sure where I was going with this. Just making the general point that I need to be more flexible, I guess, and more realistic about cleaning expectations (and expectations in general.) I mean, our house isn't even that atrocious. It's probably how most people's houses are all the time, and it doesn't bother them at all. It's not exactly unsanitary or about to be condemned. It's just not perfectly tidy and hasn't been dusted in almost two weeks, plus dear God there were dishes sitting around for days!
I don't know why I can't just let it be, and know that someone will get to it eventually. I don't know why I can't enjoy this time of resting and having a reason to be lazy. This is a perfect day to eat my Easter candy and watch TV. Instead, I sit and stew and glare at the mess and make lists of all the deep cleaning tasks which I plan to do in each room just as soon as my knee heals.
The other day I got all tearful talking to Jim about how afraid I am of the whole adjustment period when the baby comes. For the first time, I will be outnumbered during the day, and things like housekeeping and showering are definitely going to be lower on the priority list than they have been. The fact is, I may not have daily time to myself in the afternoon for many many years once this baby joins us, and I am beginning to feel terrified about that. Just going from two naps to one with Addy was a big adjustment for me- I used to shower and do my hair during the morning nap, and then clean the house in the afternoon, or nap myself. And of course blog. Now, I almost always use her nap to squeeze in a nap myself. Cleaning has already shifted on the priority list.
Jim reminded me that I could always- gasp!- get up before the kids and shower and get ready early. Or plan some cleaning time in the morning, bright and early before breakfast! But I remember newborn days, and the way for months I had no schedule whatsoever and my days and nights blurred- things still got done, even sleeping, but all on Adelay's timetable, and I just revolved around it. Now there will be two different timetables I must work around, Addy's and the baby's, and I am feeling, selfishly and childishly, resentful of the squeezing out of my own personal timetable.
Last night I got out the photo albums from Adelay's first months, and remembered her sweet smell, her impossibly tiny little hands, and the way she would fall asleep on our shoulders and nap on our chests like a contented kitten. That helped a lot, remembering all the tender things about newborns instead of dwelling on the exhausting and overwhelming things.
But seriously, if anyone has any advice at all, even little things, about ways to adjust to a toddler and a baby without losing all order and sanity, feel free to pass it on.