Or falling apart.
Depends on how you look at it.
Because, of course, we all create our own reality. Make our own choices. For good or for bad. But who's good and who's bad? What might be right for one is not for another.
You know what I'm saying?
For a year and a half now, I have been struggling with the decision as to whether or not we should have another baby. I have agonized. I have nagged Matt. I have stared at people with 2 older children and a baby. I looked at Jane and thought, are you a middle child instead of the baby? I have analyzed Matt and I as parents asking, are we 2 kid people or 3? I have tried to ignore it. I have tried to move on and start new ventures. To blog. To run.
And yet. It was there. Why? I still have no idea, really. But, in retrospect, I can't believe how much of my time and energy has gone into this decision. Not that it should be taken lightly. But that I didn't realize sooner that the very fact that I couldn't get past it was my answer screaming right back at me. None of the above questions provided any clarity, it was just that crazy, unexplainable feeling you get sometimes. That often doesn't even make any sense.
So here we are.
This past week has been a blur of feeling equal amounts of calm and panic.
Calm that I felt the deed was done, so to speak, and now I could move on. Get ready. Not have to think about it anymore.
Panic that I felt so crappy already and how in the world was I ever going to make it to June feeling like this.
Calm that I think the splitting headaches were really from caffeine withdrawal instead of some horrific 8 month long saga I was going to endure.
Panic that I am so short tempered that I will be the miserable mother I feared I might become because of this.
Calm that I will not be like the pregnant woman I saw at the doctor's office today with the 4 & 2 year old, who was dealing so poorly with her children, knowing that my kids will be in school when I visit the doctor (and that they are older).
Panic that Matt will have a nervous breakdown.
Calm that I will get to experience this all one last time and close each door as it finishes without holding it ajar for a possible future. This includes the ability to get my tubes tied right after the baby is born!
Panic that the date for Jane's dance recital is one week prior to my due date and I will most likely miss it. This led to the reality sinking in about not being able to go to all my kids' things and the sadness I felt when Jane was born and I missed Scott.
Calm that I can, finally, justify keeping all these boxes of kids clothes.
Panic that my mom will freak out.
Calm that Matt has had some very promising interviews and will, hopefully, be able to find a good job before the money runs out from his company.
Panic that the best job, so far, will require us to move.
Did I just say that? Yep. Move. From here. Where my mom lives down the street.
Except that, maybe even this, is a good thing. Maybe it is all part of it. A fresh start. A new beginning. Change is good, right?
Of all the places we could move, Boston is one of the few that consistently comes up. I think we would like it there. But, um, to get from here to there? And the difference in how we live now. Oh. My.
For now I am trying (not very successfully) to keep myself from looking up towns near Boston. Hey, in Walpole, Scott could take Dodgeball after school. And in Milton, the lunch menu has nutrition information on it.
Last week was strange, too, what with this crazy hot weather and my caffeine withdrawal induced haze. I finally emerged on Monday morning and got it together. I hosted a playgroup, cleaned up the basement, started the big closet overhaul.
So, before it gets to be way too long since my last post (this may be the longest space yet between posts), I want to say thank-you to everyone for their supportive comments. This includes the e-mails from people who do not like to comment (my brother, my cousin). From people with 1 child to those with several already. To some where they have had no trouble building the family they wanted to some who have had to make difficult choices or come to grips with things not being the way they would like.
It is an odd combination of things you can control and those you can't, this life. We keep on doing the best we can. Making the choices we think are right for us. Good or bad. (I feel I should launch into, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, ....)
One more thing before I hit publish:
I am thrilled to introduce my first troll commenter, Rachel. I would link in her e-mail, but, alas she did not leave one. Ironically, she lives near Swapscott, MA, which, you guessed it, is north of Boston. She did find the time to read my blog (for awhile) which makes me happy because it drove up my stats. I feel I have arrived in the blogging world. Someone I do not know spent time reading this little 'ol blog. And, AND, she felt so compelled by what she read, at 12:30 am, that she left a comment.
So I would like to address what she said in the unlikely event that she comes back (please come back, Rachel, the more the merrier):
Rachel: Are you nuts?
Spinning Yellow: Yes, I am.
Rachel: Your entire blog suggests that you are riddled with anxiety.
Spinning Yellow: My entire blog? I see you read some of it, but I am not quite sure you read all of it. Yeah, there's plenty of anxiety here, you aren't going to get an argument on that. The majority of anxiety about having another baby was surrounding the decision. Anyway, a blog is what it is. A diary. Therapy. I am not always what I appear to be here, because this is only what I choose to write about. Have you seen some other blogs? There's a pretty hefty amount of angst going on out there.
Rachel: The logical trajectory is that you will have more of the same.
Spinning Yellow: Reality bites. I am what I am. You must be anxiety free?
Rachel: And to what end?
Spinning Yellow: I guess another kid.
Rachel: And you expect what, exactly? Sorry, I just can't get all mushy about it.
Spinning Yellow: Did I ask for something? I am not really a mushy person, so, no, I don't want that. No one forced you to read or expected anything from you. Jeez, you'd think I told YOU to have another kid.
Rachel: More isn't better.
Spinning Winning: I couldn't agree more. Because if there are twins growing in there, you'll really see high anxiety!