wha' happen?

It's been a long few weeks - 32 of them, to be precise.

Pregnancy is really kicking my ass this time around, it seems. Or more accurately, it is eating my brain. I can't kick this sense that things that ought to take me no time at all are taking me far too long - and I would likely be right. I am moving at the pace of a sloth, a very lazy sloth.

It isn't just physically, or even predominately physically, my mind has slowed right down and it takes me so long to process a thought. I am finding myself very easily distracted too - case in point, I sat down nearly two hours ago to write this blog entry - great ideas floating around my head like pretty balloons. But then I checked my email, and a website, and then the news headlines, then I thought of something - so I looked up our old grocery delivery service, and there was music to listen to, and a new craft project to mull over, plus photos from our last week to upload to Flickr and then, suddenly, it is noon and nearly time for me to go pick up my dear son (whom I am assuming has had an amazing time with his dear, young, unpregnant aunts).

Bloody hell.

I remember a time when my writing was good with tiny smatterings of pretty great. I know this happened because I can look back and see it... No, I may not have ever been on the path to winning any awards or even entertaining more than three people - but it was something that was mine, my outlet, my something tangible - and now I feel like it escapes me (to the point that it took me three attempts to spell "escapes"). I am sure that it is all still in there, somewhere, and that my current manifestation as Kate Harris - wife, mother, cooker of food and grower of people, will evolve to include all the other things I enjoy doing (and frankly, there have been a few days here that I have very much enjoyed none of my titles as currently written).

I am very much looking forward to two now-pressing sewing projects, even though completing them will mean a slip in another area. I have two weeks to make a late birthday/christmas gift and then a little more time (though not too much) to complete my very first commission. I have made a commitment to finding ways to simplify everything else - like returning to paying a bit more for the convenience of healthy, organic food delivered to my door weekly, and sticking to my very detailed and organised budget.

And because this is the best photo I have ever taken - EVER

taken just before leaving the dock on a small ferry trip around False Creek

within me there is a peace that can not be disturbed

I spanked my child today. This is something I have always swore I would not do, I have terrible memories of being spanked - of being chased and spanked by my step-father - and never, ever, EVER want to inflict that kind of pain and humiliation on my children. And yet, today I spanked my son... suffice it to say the punishment did not fit the crime. In fact my memory of the entire incident is a little fuzzy - and it only happened half an hour ago.

The story doesn't really need re-telling, the feeling of wanting to vomit, of feeling shaken to the bone is enough for me. I never want to feel like this again - and I never, ever, EVER want my child to look at me again with fear in his eyes. I realise now that my behaviour lately has been leading me up to this. I have been alternatively cocky about my amazing mothering abilities and completely insecure about them. So insecure that I have been hiding and internalising my frustrations, holding in instead of letting out for fear of being seen as less than wonderful. Meanwhile I have done nothing to actually deal with these feelings, I go on about the wonders and virtues of mantras and mindfulness - but as a total hypocrite.

A friend brought up the possibility of prenatal depression and I don't think she is far off the mark. My ability to live in denial is really strong and I keep trying to hide what I am going through from everyone, including my husband, just like I always have. So it might be depression, it might be that I am just not dealing well with all the things I have piled on my plate and need to work through all of them, it could be that I am not getting enough sleep, or some nutrient, or eating often enough, or, most likely, it could be some combination of all those things.

We have been busy, off the charts really, and while I love it, it has been really really draining. It has left me unable or unwilling to plan social stuff through the weeks with Sebastian's friends and I am really really starting to miss those playdates. But they take so much planning and it is always a little touch and go right up to the last moment as to whether or not they will actually happen, the frustration of it all made it a simpler option to just stay home or do things just the two of us. And then there is the whole living in a new neighbourhood, meeting new people deal I am working through right now. I hate it. I miss our old friends and old activities. I miss the effortlessness of going to an organised playdate. I miss knowing people and people knowing me.


I also miss feeling rested and feeling sane.