Before I get into this, really get into this, I just want to say that I'm writing this more than anything for myself. To just get this crap out of me and onto a monitor where I can read it and digest it at whatever pace. I'm not looking for anything from anyone, no sympathy or whatever just release.

Since just before Daughter's birth I'm thinking it was, this sort of gloom has settled on me. It's insanely annoying to me and although I seem to be able to lose it for a few days it always seems to catch up to me and corner me again. Overall my quality of life has been pretty crappy in my opinion. I feel spread as thin as the most delicate and fragile thing you can imagine (glass? phyllo? china?). The things in my life that I should be so very proud of and enjoying to the fullest just aren't making me feel that way. Most days, you can definitely file me under Grouchy or Cranky. When I'm feeling quite harsh on myself, you can file me under Pathetic.

Recently I have declared a state of disconnection. And really I am sticking to it and am fully intending on doing so until 2007 and maybe if it seems to be helping, a little longer. At the same time, my brain is doing a LOT of processing and so I have the overwhelming NEED to write. To spill. To pour.

I think a lot of this is centered around one core feeling and that is overwhelmed. I feel overwhelmed everywhere. Every time I try to get a grip I don't know where to start. Get a grip? On what? Everything is out of control. Everything is broken. Everything is lacking. Nine times out of ten, the time I spend with my two children is not of the quality I would like. And look I'm not talking about sitting with my children and rearing them into little Einsteins because that is not what I believe in. I believe in my children being children. I believe my children deserve to life a life of childhood fantasy and fun, discovery and exploration. And I feel I just don't provide the kind of environment I'd like. I'm not talking about a lot here you guys. I'm really not some overachieving parent but truth be told, the sad truth, most days I play with Eldest for an hour or less. And I stay home. Some times I am pretty sure that my husband spends more quality time with Eldest than I do.

I've tried a number of things the most important of which was creating a schedule but it just didn't work. Every day, something was not right with it. And even being on schedule, I had only three hours of time with my children a day. It just doesn't feel right to me.

The hardest thing for me is that I have nothing to show for the level of stress I run at. I don't have a job that pays me well. My house is a war zone day in, day out. I don't even cook most of the meals around here. So what am I doing? Where is my time going? Right now, it's going into this but most of the time? I am pretty sure it's just pissed away. The time I waste on looking for things, trying to decide on what to do next, what to start, what to finish. In other words, I'm not even wasting time enjoying myself.

New Year resolutions have always been slightly prickly for me. Some years I just don't bother. Other years I make a bunch of stupid trivial ones and forget them by my anniversary on the 17th of January. There's been a rare one or two that have lasted until about March. Maybe even May once.

Apparently I just don't know how to run a household. I just can't wrap my head around it. So my resolution for 2007 is to figure out just how in the hell to do that. I don't want to be Superwoman. I don't want to be "that mom" who absolutely no one understands. I just want to have a couple of things run smoothly enough most of the time so I can have a couple of things to feel good about. Especially with my kids. Eldest might very well start school this year and it kills me that these three years have managed to run away from me. Or maybe I've managed to run from them.

So if I become a little quiet all of a sudden and you're not sure why it's just because I'm trying to figure this out once and for all.

So happy new year to all of you and best of luck.


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