When the kid is finally asleep, Wood goes to bed without speaking to me. So I sit alone listening to the same song over and over, too angry to do anything. Sometimes I’m sure I have no idea what I’m doing, no lodestar here in the never-darkness of Detroit. I fear that I am fucking her up and failing both of them in ways I cannot even imagine. I am no good. I suddenly crave untethered selfishness. I don’t want to be responsible for anyone. I don’t want to go back into that room. I don’t want to tell another story. I don’t want to fight with my wife again tonight. I don’t want to end this with some pithy observation that despite all this, parenthood is worth it. Not today. Because even if that is true, sometimes it can be so hard, too. And I need to acknowledge how terrified I am of going through it all again.
Mummy and Daddy blogs really get a hammering in the reputation stakes of writing, they’re all supposed to be sappy and mindless like parenting itself perhaps, but these two posts prove how much of parenthood is not sappy and mindless at all. Parenthood can feel like flirting with your own disintegration. These two posts tell me a lot about the experience of becoming a parent, about being pushed to the edge and holding it together, and about losing your very identity and forming a new one; stuff that I’ve never seen properly said in a parenting manual. Writing like this is so personal and yet universal all at once. There are many terrific reasons for blogging but the ability to liberate others through your own honesty is worthy indeed.
I was independent, he was independent. We had our problems for sure but I was pretty self-sufficient. Being pregnant and being a SAHM changes all of that. And I don’t think Husband likes having someone so dependent on him, someone who NEEDS things from him that may not be what he would normally do.
I have this vision of the woman he should really be with. She is really fit, has long, dark-blonde hair she wears in a ponytail and is really tan from her time on the slopes and doing other outdoorsy athletic things. She has a great professional job which she loves, has a lot of friends, has her own money, maybe even owned her own house before they met. And if they have a baby, well, she is super competent, finding the perfect childcare right away and going about her business. She breastfed with no trouble, recovered from childbirth without a whimper (she probably didn’t need a c-section either), and is so interesting and hot that he can’t keep his hands off of her. Above all she is self reliant and needs nothing from him beyond friendship. That’s why she turns him on so much. They have a great time together because she never asks anything of him. She can totally take care of herself.
I could sort of pretend I was her before I had the baby, but now I can’t keep that charade up any longer. I’m tired and worn out and lonely and worried and I need help just getting normal things done.
(If you’re going to comment on this post bear in mind that these are the intimate thoughts of two parents having a shitty time this week).