Though I'm sure you're all more than a little tired of the frequent bouts of ill communication on my part, believe me, the lack of postings hurts me more than it hurts you.
You see, things have been rough lately in DaDaLand. Don't get me wrong, I'm still loving this experience of loving Young Old, this watching and influencing the growth of a human soul. It's a powerful thing.
But more and more often, ever since the move and the onset of the holiday season, I've been finding myself stretched ever more thinly. My man Bilbo Baggins mentioned something about too little butter over too much bread, or something to that tune. It seems that wherever I look, there's another task to be done around the house to make it more livable; whether it's hanging up that painting, unpacking that last few boxes that have lain dormant in the middle of our bedroom for the last four weeks, hooking up phone service, etc. it all needs doing. Errands and chores stack up on lists a lifetime long. Young Old trumps all that, right? I guess...that is until the black fungus rising up from the bowels of our toilet begins to get frisky, forcing The Boy to fend for himself for a few minutes. Fine, no big deal. The problem arises when all these bits of life catch up to me, and I'm forced to leave him to his own designs for an hour or two at a time. That's when the guilt sets in, the "I'm a bad father" or "I'm neglecting my son" routine.
I'm not sure where I'm going with this. The fact of the matter is, this parenting thing, let alone this stay-at-home-pops act, is the single most difficult challenge I've yet faced in my twenty-eight years. For one thing, it's made me realize how much alone time I've needed in the past to sustain and nurture my own being, and how that sort of time is now fleeting, at best. As I mentioned earlier, meals and hygiene have taken a back seat to caring for the Young One, and old pastimes like reading and writing have become distant memories. These days, I'm not even sure what it feels like to hang out with a friend, irresponsibly free.
I know things will get easier when we've completed the transition to a new household and once the holidays, with all of their obligations and time commitments, have passed. Right now, though, the days feel needlessly complex and stress-filled, and not just on my end. Mama K has been struggling with not seeing Young Old much during the work week, let alone spending much time alone or with friends. We've had a few long talks about how our roles in the relationship have changed, and how we both feel like we're at opposite sides of the fence, both jealous of one another's chosen pasture. It's a sad feeling for the both of us, and one we've only now begun to reconcile and come to terms with.
Despite all these frustrations, we both want to let you know that we love you dearly, Young Old, and we hold no grudges. You are joy incarnate. Your delight in the world and in us is the sustenance that gives us life and strengthens our will to do right by you, to raise you as well as we know how.
We just need to find out how to not lose ourselves in the process, for all our sakes.
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