Bitch, bitch, bitch...

It's not that I don't like my life... I'm just worn with it.

Monkey is driving me, well, bananas. Everything seems to be such a struggle with him these days; it's difficult to even want to take him to the park some days, as he will lay down on the ground and tantrum at the slightest hint that he can't do... something. [sigh]

It's these years, I know.

I'm just tired of routine. Tired of every day looking like the next, and when Sunday night approaches, my feelings of dread that here we are, another week is about to begin. And everything starts all over.

I think it's the falling into a rut thing, fo' sho'.

I miss my friend, Cindy. Even if she were planning to move back here, which she's not, it wouldn't be the same. I am willing to make new friends, but I haven't found people I'm much interested in knowing more than casually. Redbeard has friends, even different tiers of friends, depending on what he's doing; it seems he always has something planned with them.

I guess I feel lonely and I'm often pushed to the edge by Monkey's tremendously toddler behaviors. Oh, and yeah, I'm 3 1/2 months pregnant...

Sometimes I'm desperate to escape the limitations of my housewifely role; it's the job of any job (besides perhaps ditch-digging) that I'm LEAST suited in skills and inclination for! I am a terrific nurturer, an inquiring mind, a pretty good mom (mostly!) and I like to have fun. I have only intermittent enjoyment in cooking or meal-planning, and no enjoyment whatsoever in laundry, washing dishes or cleaning.

I have no idea how I ended up here, other than after meeting Redbeard, I wanted to have children and with him.

Despite my shortcomings, I try (and mostly fail), but I suppose, as Six Feet Under character Ruth Fisher says to her adult son, Nate, in a moment of emotional purging, "...(T)he trying is how you know you are loved...!"

I've always known my aptitude for change is not high. Work is one thing, but not in my personal life so much. The rub for me, staying at home to care for my child, is that work is home. Home has always been sanctuary for me; the place where I can put up my feet and say 'fuck off' to the world.

Now, it's headquarters for taking care of the family's needs, and despite having so much time, I have so little!

Bitch, bitch, bitch... Tiresome, isn't it?

I need a vacation; a really good drunk would suit nearly as well, but alas.