I'm trying to remember all this is temporary. It's hard when you're in the middle of it. I feel like all I do is complain here on the blog and in my head too, though there are certainly joyous moments with the kids. Lately I've been fantasizing about being a childless person and about how Mitch and I could go cross country skiing and could decide at the last minute not to cook but go out for pizza instead, about how I could read my book while lying on the sofa or I could nap or make a trip to the grocery without its being an event. I think I'll look back on this winter and remember it as really hard because the kids are so little and it's a big production go outside to even get in the car. I don't think it will always be this way, though the nature of depression is lack of perspective--the inability to see the larger picture.
There ARE joyous moments. The kids are both really cute and funny and amazing to watch develop and grow. Mitch reminds me that if we were childless people we would miss out on all that joy. I think my lack of perspective limits me from remembering what I feel from week to week or maybe even day to day. Just a couple of weeks ago I told Mitch I thought I might really like being a stay at home mom.
I just read another blog about parenting and the writer has such a wonderful joyous positive attitude. For instance, she believes 6-month-old twin boys to be double the joy, not double the work. She seems to see the world with just the right amount of humor and I wished I could have joined in some of her family's christmas, just for a bit. Reading her blog made me happy, made me think there is indeed humor in what I often think of as the drudgery of daily living, made me think I can live this way too. Maybe I can. That would be nice. I'm going to start a campaign to change my perspective. As soon as I can get some sleep.
On a side note, I recently got an email from a friend who said she's been reading this blog and that she loves that I am "enjoying this motherhood thing so much." She says it's evident in my writing. Is that true? Does some of that seep through even the complaining? I hope so.