Deep breaths: I've been contemplating writing a post like this for some time now, but then a few of my blog friends went and created something awesome called Let's Get Real, which made me summon up some testicular fortitude and sit down and do it. Soooooooooooo here goes.
For every post I write featuring some cute craft that I just made, there are at least four half-finished projects lying around the house in some state of neglect. I start things that I wind up not finishing and then I feel horrible about it, so I move on to something "easy" to make myself feel better. And posting about crafts means I don't have to delve into my personal life quite so much for material, which honestly leaves a lot to be desired these days.
I totally seek the validation of strangers with this blog. It makes me feel so good when someone--anyone--compliments my photos and the like and I get really down on myself when a post goes by without a single comment. Sad, right?
I'm not really enjoying being a military spouse these days. But then again, I'm sure my problems are not limited to those who happen to be married to someone in service, so I think it might be accurate to say that I'm not happy being a spouse at the moment. I find myself wishing that Captain Husband would have to go somewhere for a few months just so I can get back into the routine that I had established while he was in South Korea last year.
I miss working. A lot. I miss using my brain and having conversations with other adults about things that have nothing to do with kids or kid-related activities. I feel as though I have nothing to talk about and like I'm the most boring person to ever walk the planet. I try to keep up with current events and read the paper every day and whatnot, but it seems like every single conversation I have with other people somehow returns to the minutiae of being a stay-at-home-mom and I hate that. I can't remember the last time that I sat down and read a scholarly article; no wonder I feel so brain dead.
I'm jealous of the fact that CH gets to leave the house and go to work every day. I'm jealous that he has a private office and can shut the door when he needs to work on something important (or if he just wants to be left alone for a little bit). I'm jealous that he gets to unwind from his day at work during his drive home. I want those things for myself...more importantly, I'd like to be able to pee without Sammy going into a separation-anxiety-induced panic attack every time I try to close the bathroom door.
Believe me, there's more, so much more. I've only just scratched the surface but I don't want to scare everyone off of visiting my blog in one fell swoop. Thanks for letting me get some of this stuff off of my chest.