It's been a while since I blogged, I know. I had written up a post, but accidentally x'ed out of the screen before I posted it. Stupid.
Anyways, Purgatory was this Friday past and as expected, it was fantastic. I've posted this picture, cause I know a couple of people wanted to see my costume. This is my charcter and a Marxist named Mr. Arkhaus having a discussion. Arkhaus is incredibly passionate, and always shaking his fist in the air. Unfortunately for him, where he isn't met with outright resistance, he tends to run into just plain apathy (he tends to remind me of you, Goody, is that bad?).
Mary is doing...well...I guess. Actually, I don't really know what to do with her. She hates bathing, and absolutely freaks out in the tub. She's clearly terrified, but she has to bathe. I just don't understand why she's suddenly so scared. Sigh. Also, she's still incredibly fussy when it comes to eating, worse than usual these days. Oh, and did I mention the grinding of teeth? It's started up again, worse than before because she now has a mouth full of teeth to grind. It drives me crazy. And the there is the temper tantrums. Jesus. Today she flipped out for no reason that I could discern, and smashed me so hard in the face that my tooth went into my lower lip. It took all my willpower not to heave her across the room when that happened.
I thought that getting away would make things easier, but if anything, I'm having a harder time now. I miss Ian, I miss the weather, I miss the music, I miss the freedom of being able to go out after 7 at night. I want to be able to run up to the store for a slurpee at 10 in the evening. I want to get out of the house. I want to talk to people who can actually talk back. I want to socialize, I want to take a class. Sigh. I love Mary, and I love being a Mum, I really do...but I'm so tired of doing it all alone. I'm tired of feeling guilty when I go out with my group of friends and have to bring Mary along. I'm tired of turning every invitation to go out down, because I'm alone with the baby. I'm just...tired (and apparantly feeling very sorry for myself).
2 comments:
Why, oh why do the Bolshies always dress so drab?
Oh, god. I can't *completely* empathize, b/c my kidlet's not reached the territwo's stage yet, but I just. hate. how. words. don't. suffice. here. I mean, anything anyone says here in the comments isn't going to bring a sensible, understanding person carrying a basket full of yummy treats 'round to your door, someone who you randomly trust completely, someone who says, "go. go get in the shower, then put on your not-on-shift clothes, and meet your friends at the pub for a drink and a nosh. and come back when you feel like it. we'll be fine."
but if one of us could do that for you just by saying something lovely here, I'm sure we would.
p.s. does that not sound more divine than a date with Stephen Colbert (my new lover)?
p.s.s. hang in there, sister.
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