Beware of the Excessive Complaining and Exaggeration in this Post

I fell off the wagon yesterday. Backslid a bit. The thing is, lately I can almost feel my will to even move flowing out of me along with my milk. I can feel a swirl of hormones from my toes to my eyeballs, sweeping my sanity along with them. I stare off into space without seeing. So, I broke a few rules yesterday, about not making Chinua the enemy, not speaking when only toxic waste will come out, and not beating myself up for small things over and over. It was a terrible day.

It probably was begun by the fact that Chinua forgot it was Valentine's Day. Big deal, right? I mean, I know he's not known for his memory for these kinds of things. I know this. I was pretty sure that he wouldn't remember, but I didn't remind him, because part of me was hoping that maybe he had some big thing planned, or some great gift to give me. And I felt like I needed something like that. Life for me has been a little hectic lately. But I have no call to feel like a tragedy queen over my husband forgetting Valentine's Day because 1. I was almost positive that he would forget. 2. I married a man who is forgetful, and it's not a crime to be forgetful. 3. I chose not to remind him. And 4. I know that he loves me.

See, I do know, because I have single friends who remind me, that I have pretty much everything I could want. I'm working at meaningful things in a ministry I love, I'm surrounded by good friends and I live in a beautiful place, I'm married to a superstar who loves me, and I have three great kids. I know this, I really do. I know that I'm not lonely, I know that Valentine's Day doesn't even matter because I'll never spend another one alone, (though I did spend yesterday bickering with the love of my life). But man, what I wouldn't give for a little loneliness sometimes.

I'm like a magnet. If I'm sitting on one cushion of the couch, nursing the baby, then I have two little friends on either side of me, on the same cushion of the couch. No space. There are space issues in our home. I'm going to start a new show called Everyone Needs Mama. As in, everyone needs mama to hug them, everyone needs mama to feed them, clothe them, wipe their poop off their bums, and most of all, everyone needs mama to be happy and sane. I KNOW that this is great, that it's wonderful to be needed, that I'm very blessed, but the result is that one thought doesn't follow another very well in my head anymore. I'm starting to lose brain cells. And I'm writing this at 4:00 AM because I just finished feeding the baby (who pooped all over my pyjamas) and I have no time to write during any normal hours anymore. In a minute I'll try to still my mind and go back to sleep.

So, I was raging mad yesterday when Chinua suggested that my ravings about Target being such a great store are a little, well, ghetto. Low quality. Like, Rae? Aren't you settling a little?
And I probably should have realized that he wasn’t saying that I'm low-quality, or that I just have terrible taste or low standards, but it set me off because doesn't he realize that the things I get excited about now are diapers on clearance? When was the last time I bought clothing for myself? I think I bought a pair of pants last Christmas. You know? So, Target is a great store, because when you have little means and three children you look for bargains everywhere. On necessities. Chinua totally saw this, of course. But I still made a rabid issue out of it.

Poor husband. Seriously. I was not fun to be around.

Part of that was probably my stress over meeting with the surgeon yesterday, which was the reason Chin and I were out together at all. He came to be with me at my last appointment before I have the surgery to remove Lump and half my thyroid, which is in two weeks. He is totally supportive and understanding. Even so, a little sulky part of me feels like I am in this alone, like no one really gets how hard this is for me. I'll probably write more about the upcoming surgery, since there are so many emotions running around inside me over it.

On a cheerful note, Leaf is turning into an absolute doll. He was so sweet yesterday, giving me those great open-mouthed smiles that are almost more vertical than horizontal, with a little scrunched up nose. And YaYa peed in the potty for the very first time yesterday. My mom was the one there for the celebratory moment, when she was watching her while I was gone. The first pee is a big deal, since suddenly she has an inkling that maybe she might get it, that this is what is supposed to happen in the toilet. Boy, wouldn't that make life good.

And then even though I was such lame company all day, after the kids were in bed my superstar husband gave me an amazing massage with this intense cordless massage thing. My old war injury, the sprain or fracture or something that I have in my neck from a car accident was acting up, like it always does when I'm under the weather. Very painful and in irritation perhaps the equivalent of someone slapping me in the face repeatedly all day. And then telling me to act happy. Chinua helped me out with the thirty-eight huge knots in my neck and I went to sleep blissfully. So maybe it was a good Valentine's Day, after all.