my bedroom, is, in its current state, a disaster area of horrific proportions. as a perfectionist i am finding it REALLY difficult to not freak out about it. mentally catalouging which piles of clothes are clean and which are dirty is quickly losing its charm (as if it had any to begin with) and on the days when i realize zach's underwear drawer is completely empty with no hope of replenishment, i automatically nominate myself for the "worst wife ever" award. i wouldn't get zach's vote, and for this i am thankful; he's been so great about it all. he gently reminds me that being a mom is a full time job and that as long as i am doing that to the best of my ability, he is happy. whatever i feel, it's pretty much all self inflicted.
to be fair, we are painting the room, so it's in a much worse state than usual. i say, we, but really kari & lynn (zach's mom & dad) have been bearing the brunt of the painting duties. i would help, but short of duct taping titus to my body, i am left to try to squeeze in some edging during naptimes when he is not crying to be held.
i am scared to death that i won't be able to cope when i go back to work in 2 weeks. how can i add 40 hours of work (more or less) to this whole scenario and still keep my sanity? i've been in tears over it more than a couple times. zach, ever the good husband, encourages me to not stress about it yet and that i can, and will, do great. even my boss, coming off of a recent maternity leave of her own, has advised me to not get 'too depressed' yet. i like her.
i know it won't always be like this. maybe god is breaking me of my need for everything to look 'just so'... it's pretty deeply ingrained; this could be painful.
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