Getting my shit together

So at 6 weeks postpartum I am trying to get my shit together. There is really no better way to put it than that. In the past few weeks I have cooked more for my family and stayed home more than I have in the past year. Things did not go as I had planned them.. for anything.. and still things are left less than satisfactory and undone.

Cancer.. yes that dreaded c word.. Didn't expect it to take me down the road it did. Watching someone die that way sucks.. and it sucks worse than I thought it did.. I am angry now more than sad. Angry he didn't just go to the damned dentist. Angry he left me to handle everything, the medical bills, the financial mess, the emotional toll, the pregnancy, the kids left with my mom while I took care of him.... I feel cheated.. I feel like a year of my life I gave to him and I am not exactly sure what to take from that.. I gave up everything for his last year to be the most comfortable.. anywhere he wanted to go ( not that I could convince him of much as far as a trip far away like the beach and stuff) we went, where ever he wanted to eat ( until I started morning sickness for myself) we ate at. I am not regretting what I did, or how I did it, or even how it all ended up... I just need to vent .. so I don't look like this huge ungrateful bitch who just whines about this kind of thing.. I took care of someone with terminal cancer.. I could have had terminal cancer.. or my child who had a mole taken off his face had surgery and is fine now.. but every mole.. is like.. that dreaded c word.. and I am now more freaked out than ever....

The home remodel.. trying to finish the basement for my father in law turned into a home remodel which I was not prepared for during the best of circumstances.. let alone the crook who took me and my family and flushed our money and our stable house down the drain... even the men who later helped fix his mistakes couldn't undo the horrible things he did.. every place .. every room in my house.. there are things that are fucked.. and I don't have the energy now to fix them.. I can't find a damn vent cover for the bathroom because they cut the hole funky.. I am insanely angry and I need to let it go.. but when you have to literally get a lawyer because the jackass that fucked up your house wants to sue you for an extra 15K for screwing your house up and leaving you with no floors for 3 months.. well.. that there is what I would call righteous anger.

I had dreams.. I had illusions that I would be pregnant, cure my father in laws cancer with some miracle trial that only a smart gal like me online 24/7 researching it could find, homeschool the kidlets this fall despite having not prepared one bit, and finding time for cooking gourmet meals, and hobbies like painting , knitting, and the like. Instead..

I am behind in pretty much any type of planning what's so ever for the kids education and I thoroughly admit that. I do work sheets, and we read, and have apps.. but it's not the montessori classroom I hoped for or envisioned.

I have a beautiful sweet baby, who needs me.. but all I want to do is clean and get stuff somewhat put back to normal... and that word doesn't even make sense to me right now..

Everyone I can compare myself to has a husband who is home and gets to have daily breaks and such.. I am not that person. I have the road wife syndrome.. I am on my own 5 days a week. It's me.. and it sucks.. I hate being alone. I literally stay up till I can't stay up anymore and make sure I have my intruder plan which = blowing the invader into little bits with multiple rounds of ammunition. So the next day I am beyond tired.. we don't get up till 10am because I usually am up till dawn.. so I am living off 4 hours of sleep.. interrupted now at best.. and I am actually doing better now than pre cancer/pregnancy/home remodel..

I am actually quite chipper given my prior events.. but right now I just got through crying because I feel left behind in everything I do.. and I know things I would like to do but I feel like a failure before I begin.. I want to sing and do the band thing.. but that's not feasible with 3 kids.. and I knew that .. I wanted kids more. But I feel like unless I am growing my own food, baking my own bread, making my own clothes, making my own plates, up at dawn asleep at a normal hour, hair and makeup done ( never have this done unless it's a funeral or wedding.. mostly weddings) my kids perfectly behaved ( pft.......) etc etc etc that I am a complete and utter loser. And to top it off.. I'm fat.. and I hate it.. but I am breastfeeding so I am literally feeling thirsty and hungry all that time.. I exercise but it's at 1am... so it keeps me even more awake..

I am trying... but it seems the more I do.. the less I actually have done.. I just uncover more stuff that needs/should be done.

And don't even get me started on my retail therapy binges that would make Dave Ramsey's eyeballs burst into flames at the thought of it..

When you feel shitty it's eat, buy something, bury that feeling so you can move on.. but I just haven't.. I am in some weird form of shock.. It doesn't feel real.. nothing feels real.. and I am literally mourning every day I am a live.. knowing I am one day closer to death...

This morning I was counting to 100 with William.. and I noticed just how much 26 encompassed.. I will be that number the 14th.. If you color in those blocks you just see time ticking away.. and my children just don't seem to have the long playful childhood I did.. It seemed like summers lasted years.. My children had a 5th and a 3rd of their childhood taken away by everything that happened.. I just wish I could do something more...

So I am getting my shit together.. I am at least getting up with a routine.. and sticking to it.. hopefully that will start the ball rolling in the right direction.. where ever that may be...

Carrying on,

Elizabeth