It’s Okay If You’re Not Ready For Your Amazing Future.
Just be where you are.
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You haven’t completely lost control over your life until you realize you don’t even have your nights anymore.
It’s what happens with two small children.
When I read creativity advice that tells me to give my mind an unsolvable problem right before I go to sleep, and then my subconscious will solve it, I think, great. But I can’t do that.
First of all, I don’t go to sleep. I pass out. I pass out either on the bed, while pushing the baby’s swing; or on the couch, while I’m trying to have but a moment of quality time with my husband; or in the hallway between both.
Second of all, I don’t sleep. I nap as long as my baby will allow me.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about doing something I shouldn’t do — moving my baby in the kids’ room to sleep with his brother.
My pediatrician told me I should wait until the big brother turns 3. Before that, he’s still too young, and there’s the possibility that he hurts the baby unintentionally.
I don’t want to wait: because I know my toddler is already smart enough, and I know he sleeps well, and I know they won’t really be alone together awake.
I don’t want to wait. I’m in desperate need to be able to close the door to my master bedroom, and take a shower, put my closet in order or choose an outfit for the next day.
To read before bed.
I’m desperate. But I am waiting. No, not because of the pediatrician.
I’m a little ashamed to admit this.
I keep telling people how I can’t wait for my kids to grow up so I can have more control over my life. I am sick and tired of someone always crying around me, always needing me urgently.
But also, I feel weird about the fact that my babies are growing up daily. It’s been all about them for the past 6–7 years of my life.
First, I struggled to get pregnant. Then I got pregnant, and my pregnancy was at the centre of everything. The Earth revolved around my belly, for what I knew. Then I devoted my life to my first son. A couple of months after he turned…
