Jason's Untimely Thoughts

Way over simplified, but I think in general moms of the world become selfless, sometimes to a bit of a fault, once the kids come along.  While the dads of the world become selfish (or moreso, smartasses).  Job first versus family first and who gets to do which is the easiest typical example.  Could also go with who sleeps with the kids every night in their little beds versus who sleeps in the big bed all alone.  Or who gets the minivan and who gets the truck.  Combined, it’s a good system, especially if you get the truck.

One of my concerns at the moment is who is going to give the kids the selfless portion of things.  I’m still at work, I’m still concerned about getting my own sleep (but still having a hard time wanting to go to sleep), where do they receive that typical mom unbridled unconditional love without reservation that Sarah would have been providing?  There are lots doing more than their parts to help, but in the early morning or middle of the night meltdowns, having a team to contend with the meltdown was a good system.  Having just me to contend with the meltdowns isn’t the best system.  I make good effort, I think, to make sure the kids understand right and wrong, but I wonder if I’m able to do that, long-term, in a way that they understand intrinsically that they’re loved, regardless of right or wrong.

All this selfish talk also comes up because that’s how I judge myself at the moment.  Basically, this isn’t what I signed up for.  We had a good deal going, living where we wanted, how we wanted, and doing mostly what we wanted, when we wanted with only occasional whines (me) about money along the way.  I worry that my rush to get home is hurting me at work.  I worry that I’m an idiot for worrying about that.  Mostly though I feel sorry for myself that Sarah’s not home to share stuff with, including the work of parenting the kids.  And I think I’m an idiot for feeling sorry for myself.

I’d like a reset button, to reset the parts that don’t make any damn sense to me.  Like, the past 4 months.  Who needed that surgery anyway, or why wasn’t I more adamant on certain details during the recovery?  Why didn’t I know more and why couldn’t I predict the future?   And I’d like to be able to have fun again.  And I’d like for the times that are fun to not then cause guilt about how can I have fun given the circumstances.  And I’d like for the kids to be able to run up and hug their mom.  That’s the part I’d really like.

This is possibly the most rambling entry I’ve ever written.  And perhaps the twentieth where I mentioned that things aren’t fun.  I should have called it Rambling Whining.