Groundhog Day

11 months is approaching quickly, which means Zoe’s 1 year anniversary is closing in. Besides the obvious despair and depression, I feel bored. I need a purpose. A hobby, a job…something. I need something to keep me busy. Something to look forward to. The kids are getting older and better at occupying themselves (and playing together, which is a godsend). The dog is self-sufficient and rarely needs anything. I’m sick of watching TV, I’m sick of surfing the internet, I’m sick of Facebook.

I think part of the problem is winter. I hate being cooped up in the house, but I also hate being in the cold (even just going back and forth from the car). That and we’re in a holding pattern for everything–where we’re going next, if Jeff will be around, why I can’t seem to get pregnant, whether or not we’re going to get a puppy we found up for adoption or if the foster family is going to keep it, when VW is going to buy my station wagon back. It’s like I’m frozen in time. It’s Groundhog Day–every day is exactly the same. Jordan and I make a run for the bus. Carter plays with his trucks. Him and I make the 22 minute drive to the gym where I attempt to give myself a heart attack on the elliptical. We drive the 22 minutes back, singing along to Sesame Street. He plays with trucks. We have lunch, read the same 4 books and then it’s nap time. I wander around aimlessly while he (sometimes) sleeps. He gets up, we play trucks. Jeff comes home. Jordan comes home. 3 hours until dinner. Dinner. One hour until bedtime. Books, songs, cuddle, sleep. 2 hours of zoning in front if the TV. Finally, my favorite part of the day, the part I look forward to all day long–blissful sleep. Then repeat. For all of eternity.

I need a change. More specifically, I need a baby. I need to feel the relief of finally getting a full night of sleep consistently, of finally being on a schedule, of being thankful for an hour a day all to myself during nap time. I need Zoe.

Or, since that is impossible in every way, a baby in my belly. Something to look forward to. Something to help me appreciate everything exactly the way that it is, before it all changes forever. A better reason to not do anything but lay on the couch than boredom/depression. A light at the end of the very long, very dark tunnel. Throw me a bone.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *