come apart
Even though I have some days yet (38, if you wanted to count), I've learned today what it means to feel like the mediocre housewife. I've learned how/why women feel bad about themselves and how small things (or, in this case, large things on top of small things) can and do make women feel like they're doing a poor job of being wifely.
I managed to let it slip through the cracks that Ames's mother's last name was spelled incorrectly on the two mock-ups of our announcement before they were printed, so I've got 250 wrong announcements sitting on my table. My brilliant sister wondered if we couldn't just reorder the half that will be sent to his family and everyone who knows her, while we send the wrong ones to our family/parents friends who aren't going to know the difference or care, even if they did-- but he wants them corrected. I can't say I blame him. At all. I certainly made enough of a fuss when my name was spelled wrong the first time.
I feel like our house is a mess. Granted, I have few places where I can put everything, and even less money to afford to buy places to put everything like mail and pens and organizers for the bathroom drawers and all the things I want to do but feel so much like I can't. Like, I literally cannot. I hate the way everything is organized (or not organized) and set up and where the furniture is placed, even though I know it's all temporary and we're going to move things anyway...
But I'm D-O-N-E making decisions by myself. I didn't have Ames look at the invitations, and they're wrong. I went ahead and chose linens and centerpieces and everything for the reception, and he didn't like them. I'm so nervous to make any decisions on our collective behalf anymore because I don't want to feel like this anymore.
He's not the one making me feel bad. I anticipate that he'll come home from the show tonight and let me cry into his shoulder for a few minutes while he just holds me because he feels bad that I feel bad. I'm making myself feel this way, ultimately, and I know that. But I thought I'd be able to do all of this without him, and clearly I can't. Clearly I'm not nearly as independent and self-sufficient as I have thought or pretended to be.
And even though my heart jumps every time I see an adorable baby with brown eyes and dark hair who might somehow look like it could belong to us, I'm unspeakably terrified to be a bad mom. If I feel like a bad wife already and I'm not even one yet, how in the world can I possibly learn to take care of a small human and raise them to be good and well-behaved and not a stress-case like their mother?
I'm so sick about these announcements, I can hardly even speak/type about it.
I want a different kitchen table.
I want a bed and not an air mattress anymore.
I want a coffee table and plastic organizers to put in my drawers and linen closet. I also want a TV stand, and for my TV to be hooked up to the cable.
i dont' want to feel like I'm out of control and doing a bad job. I want to do a good job. I freak out about my weekly evaluations at work because I don't ever want to lose any points-- I feel like I'm slipping so much in my wifely evaluation and it scares me more than my work evaluation.
I wish 38 days would pass more quickly, and a tiny part of that is so that I can feel justified in feeling mediocre by actually being a wife.
I managed to let it slip through the cracks that Ames's mother's last name was spelled incorrectly on the two mock-ups of our announcement before they were printed, so I've got 250 wrong announcements sitting on my table. My brilliant sister wondered if we couldn't just reorder the half that will be sent to his family and everyone who knows her, while we send the wrong ones to our family/parents friends who aren't going to know the difference or care, even if they did-- but he wants them corrected. I can't say I blame him. At all. I certainly made enough of a fuss when my name was spelled wrong the first time.
I feel like our house is a mess. Granted, I have few places where I can put everything, and even less money to afford to buy places to put everything like mail and pens and organizers for the bathroom drawers and all the things I want to do but feel so much like I can't. Like, I literally cannot. I hate the way everything is organized (or not organized) and set up and where the furniture is placed, even though I know it's all temporary and we're going to move things anyway...
But I'm D-O-N-E making decisions by myself. I didn't have Ames look at the invitations, and they're wrong. I went ahead and chose linens and centerpieces and everything for the reception, and he didn't like them. I'm so nervous to make any decisions on our collective behalf anymore because I don't want to feel like this anymore.
He's not the one making me feel bad. I anticipate that he'll come home from the show tonight and let me cry into his shoulder for a few minutes while he just holds me because he feels bad that I feel bad. I'm making myself feel this way, ultimately, and I know that. But I thought I'd be able to do all of this without him, and clearly I can't. Clearly I'm not nearly as independent and self-sufficient as I have thought or pretended to be.
And even though my heart jumps every time I see an adorable baby with brown eyes and dark hair who might somehow look like it could belong to us, I'm unspeakably terrified to be a bad mom. If I feel like a bad wife already and I'm not even one yet, how in the world can I possibly learn to take care of a small human and raise them to be good and well-behaved and not a stress-case like their mother?
I'm so sick about these announcements, I can hardly even speak/type about it.
I want a different kitchen table.
I want a bed and not an air mattress anymore.
I want a coffee table and plastic organizers to put in my drawers and linen closet. I also want a TV stand, and for my TV to be hooked up to the cable.
i dont' want to feel like I'm out of control and doing a bad job. I want to do a good job. I freak out about my weekly evaluations at work because I don't ever want to lose any points-- I feel like I'm slipping so much in my wifely evaluation and it scares me more than my work evaluation.
I wish 38 days would pass more quickly, and a tiny part of that is so that I can feel justified in feeling mediocre by actually being a wife.