Friday, December 7


Okay, okay, okay.  After far too many phone calls/emails/texts saying, "Heeelllooooo... where are the new blogs?"  I'm back.

I've been in a rut.  A residual rut from my last uber-depressing post, The One Where Melanie Screws It All Up.  I've been crazy-mega-busy at work, and amidst all the shopping for Christmas gifts and groceries, I've been trying to find a store that will sell me 2 or 3 extra hours in a day, but alas, I return empty-handed every time.

And every night is one of those "wake-up-every-night-at-2-3-and-4-am-because-you-think-of-something-else-you-have-to-do" nights.  And Sol gets sick - conveniently enough, when I'm literally the only person from my department in the office that week, so I literally can't call in or work from home.  And at the end of the most non-stellar day possible, I get fabulous emails with not-so-fabulous words from a not-so-fabulous person *cough*deadbeatdad*coughcough*.  And then I go home to a wailing child with a temperature of 102, who refuses to sleep longer than an hour at a time.  And I don't know what she wants or how to help her, and I end up crumpled up on the floor next to my crumpled bath towel from that morning, pulling my hair out and sobbing in frustration, which (surprise, surprise) doesn't make Sol stop crying.  And I just want to have a real conversation with another human being.  I want to sit on my couch with another adult and have random pointless conversation and talk about things that happened to me that day.  I want to tell someone about the funny license plate I saw, or the food that someone brought in and it smelled gooooood, which was surprising, because it was chicken.  I want to ask them if my hair looks better like {this} or like {this}.  And I want to do all this while donning sweatpants and a sweatshirt I acquired while working at a pumpkin farm.  But alas,  it's 11:47pm and I'm silent, alone in the kitchen, busy making a dessert for the office potluck tomorrow, and I'm still in my sweater, jeans, and boots that I've been wearing for 16 hours straight.  I've turned my phone off because I just don't want to talk to anyone.  And I don't even have time to eat, much less write anything for my #$%^ blog.  And I'm hungry because I haven't had a bite to eat all day, but at this point I'm so tired that I just need to cover the dessert and go to sleep. My world is killing me, and I'm exhausted.  Mentally, emotionally, physically exhausted.  I am worn down with life.

And then something happened this morning.  I woke up at 5am and stayed awake.  I watched a couple episodes of Full House while lying in bed.  And I took a shower and got everything ready for the day (including the dessert I slaved over).  And I went up the stairs to put on my watch, and I heard "ba! ba! ba!" from the tiny bedroom next to mine.  And I ducked into that little room and I saw the chubbiest-cheeked little face peeking at me over the railing of the crib.  And as I walked into the room, that little face broke into the biggest smile I've ever seen.  And she reached out to me with her ever-growing arms.  I whisked her out of her crib and held her close to me.  And she removed her pacifier and offered it to me, and I pretended to bite the end of it, and she ROARED with laughter because she thinks that's the funniest thing that's EVER happened.  And her hair was sticking up five ways from Sunday, and she pushed herself away from my chest and studied my face with her ever-curious fingers.  And it was like she was reaching straight into my chest and tugging on my heart.  And at that moment, I felt patience.  And peace.  And love.

She makes me feel complete, and on mornings like this, she makes me feel a little less alone.  She makes me hate the daily grind a little less, and love my life a little more.  And she makes me realize that I need to stop dropping to the floor in fits of frustration and despair, because she sees me.  She sees that I'm sad.  She sees that I'm lonely.  And while I know with every thread of my being that she is NOT the reason for my sadness, she doesn't know that.  I don't ever want her to think she's an inconvenience, or that my life would be better without her, or that she's the reason for the tears that so often find their way down my cheeks.  She doesn't make me sad; she brings me back to life when the world seems to be killing me.

So that was a bunch of rambling, but the point is, I'm back.  I'm writing.  And I will continue to write.  I very seriously considered never writing another blog ever again, but that's one of the dumbest ideas I've ever had. Stay tuned; I have much to say after 2 weeks of silence.

{random side note: maybe I should've named this post "The One Where Melanie Overuses the Word 'And' "}

On a brighter note, check out my office!  Holy festive, batman.
Imagine trying THIS at my old job.  In ya face.

1 comment:

  1. This post made me sad. Then happy! Then happy again! Love that they can make it all better again. :) You're such a good mom!!