Sometimes it is hard.

My husband seems able to sleep whenever and wherever and I resent that.

Oooh, this looks like is is shaping up to be a really healthy and pleasant Mother's Day post, doesn't it?

It's not that I don't count my blessings, I do, every single day. It is just harder to do when you are so exhausted that you can't see straight.

The last two nights have been much better on the Monkey front.
Attaching in Adoption by Deborah Gray is a book I have read before and own a copy of but I needed to sit down and crack open again so that is what I did on Friday afternoon.
Good thing too.

Both parents went in at a Friday night bedtime and talked to her (okay I talked but my husband gave the appearance of agreeing) about how we were both strong and healthy and that we work hard to stay that way and detailed how physically safe our house is from anyone being able to break in and kill us. This included listing all the animals that we have in the house that would work as either a deterrent in and of themselves like the dogs or simply as a warning system, here we suggested that the guinea pig would likely do its part.

Never thought that being as open as I was about my colonoscopy last November would help to lend credence to my claim that I take preserving my health very seriously, but it did.

Emphasizing the steps we take to stay alive and present helped address her fears about our dying or being killed.

At the same time I try to be reasonable, yes someday we will die but at no point will it be because we aren't trying our darndest not too.

She has slept through both nights and was pleased with herself for doing so.

Of course, the absence of her needing me was quickly filled in by my thirteen year old's need for reassurance that I love her and that she has a defined place in our family and that she is loved.

And there are the others waiting in the wings. My oldest boy is one that I have to make an effort to give attention and time to because he usually won't ask for it, even if he wants it and would benefit from it.

It is hard balancing the four of them and I'm with them nearly all the time.
Yes, I usually consider myself very lucky that I am.

It is all a bit harder right now.
Dad is back from being away for nine days and it is never easy to reintegrate him into the routine.

There is anger that he went away and resentment that he has just shown up again and expects to step into a position of authority (on my part as well as that of the kids).

I struggle with thinking that I would rather he just didn't come back.
Not that he is a bad person or that I would want anything to happen to him, but the travelling for work, the importance of work and the time and interest that work requires of him - is draining to try and live with.

There are times when I imagine that it would be easier for me emotionally to not have to work around him in my own home.

This happens when he goes away, particularly for a long time.

I want to be the kind of wonderful, well rounded person who is genuinely happy when their spouse goes off to an amazing city and visits museums of art and goes for fascinating hikes and eats out every meal and is pursuing his ambitions etc. etc.

But I'm not.

I am bitter and tired and trying hard to cope with the fact that right now, I don't have any time or energy to pursue my own ambitions, as little as they are.

One - I hope to finish knitting a baby blanket, as a gift, in the next day or two.
Two - I need to sleep, a lot and then figure out if paying that sleep debt will make it possible for me to tackle the run that I have been working toward for the past five months.

And those come after the other stuff that needs, must be done.

There just isn't enough of me to go around.
Still mothering is the most important thing to me.

Four kids I wouldn't, couldn't trade for anything.
Possibly five, if and that is a big if, we can slowly, slowly feel our way towards a permanent relationship with 14 year old Obie (my youngest kids bio sibling who is also in care).

We are starting to talk about that with him.
It would mean at least a year of his being clean and sober in a residential treatment program.
He needs to learn to live without drugs and alcohol and with structure before he will likely be ready to try and live in a family home.

I do have hopes for the future.

Happy Mother's Day.