The paradox about my current state of unrest is that I have absolutely nothing to complain about. Well, nothing legitimate. All of my basic needs are being met. Mr Renn has a job, and is qualified for hopefully perpetual employment. We are able and willing to have children. We've a roof over our heads, food to eat, and the gospel in our lives.
I ought to be over the moon.
But in my current state of malaise and physical limitation, my brain goes a mile a minute and gets frustrated with my body that can't keep up. My mom told me today that if I plan to keep having kids 2-ish years apart that I need to stop thinking of that level of functioning as below par. It needs to be normal, and anything above that is just a bonus. I don't know if I can let my expectations drop that low, I might get dangerously depressed.
I am thankful that the Captain is finally getting to the point where he can actually play with Sir O. Their play never goes smoothly for more than 3 minutes, but it's something. Unfortunately Sir O seems to be hard-wired as a kid that cannot self-direct. His imagination is intact, but he has to be told what to play or what to imagine, in order for it to cognate. I find myself trying to come up with things for him to do all.day.long. And being the girly-girl that I am, I have a hard time. Between the prego-exhaustion and this perpetual circus of parental damage-control I don't get a whole lot of self-actualized productivity in my days.
And if I could just be okay with that everybody would be hunky-dory.
Amongst my multitudinous quirks, I have a burning desire to feel productive. (You know, where you accomplish something and immediately have something to show for it) This I can likely claim as a heritage of my mother. But in addition I have an intrinsic need to create, and a malnourished aesthetic sensitivity that has tortured me most of my life, because I was raised to be utilitarian and married Mr. Sensible.
Did I mention that I'm also a perfectionist? Do me a favor and do not wish this lethal combination of quirks on anyone. Between needing to feel productive, needing to create, caring to the point of irrationality about how things look (and subsequently feel), and being a perfectionist.....(oh, and the bonus pregnant nesting instinct) I'm not sure how I'm ever supposed to be content.
In Elementary school I was voted "most creative" at the end of year class-awards from 3rd-6th grade. By 6th grade it was not even exciting to look forward to the ceremony. No suspense whatsoever.
I was one of those people who just about danced with happiness when Elder Uchtdorf validated my desire to be creative. If only he had also somehow validated the price tag that can come with most of my material creative pursuits. (Which are not exorbitant, but are still not free, which in my case makes them prohibitive).
How's that for a vague and round-about way of saying that I'm wanting to nest like crazy, but can't.? For the third time in a row. Just once I'd like to get a nursery all "ready" for a baby and see what it feels like, if the crazy frustration I experience would go away. (Granted I got to post-nest a little with Sir O, but preparing a nursery with an infant in tow is NOT taking advantage of pregnancy nesting) But I have to wonder, what would it be like to bring the baby home from the hospital and have a quiet, peaceful, attractive little spot to land with him?
Mr Renn is quick to point out that very few people in the world have large enough houses to even have bedrooms, let alone a separate room for the baby. That's the part where I start throwing things at him.
There is no way to explain how important aesthetics can be for someone who is easily emotionally affected by them to a person who is not. And in this house, I am the only sensitive one; I guess.
To Mr Renn's credit, he'd let me do whatever the heck I'm itching to do if there was any money for it. But seeing that we could easily own a nice house for all the student debt we have, and his paycheck is very lean and studenty, and we're needing to invest in a larger vehicle soon...... his common sense wins out over his compassion.
Rats.
2 comments:
I'm in the same boat, dear. No nesting room, no money for creativity. So we try to be content with what we have, but its hard to keep perspective when you're in the trenches. I guess I have no answers, but plenty of compassion for you!
The feeling of wanting to create and not having the money and being the only one who would appreciate it anyway is so familiar. People tell me eventually we'll get there when I'll have the time and funds to finally do all the things I've wanted to. I wonder if they're just trying to appease me or if what they say will ever really come true.
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