It seems in my life that when I'm out of my groove, my family is well entrenched in theirs. When I finally start making the trek back into my groove, they all fall out.
Ordinarily, I would say that is screaming to me that I'm the one who is out of step, and that maybe things in my family as I "wish" them to be, are not "meant" to be. Futile or not, I'm not willing to give up on things just yet. But there are days, moments, weeks, when it certainly does cross my mind.
My husband and I are the big missteps here. My daughter and I can get into a groove quite easily. My husband and I not so much. I think both of us really want that, but since we've had a child, and I expect more ownership and adult like responsibility from my husband, we haven't been walking the same path gracefully. And the word "gracefully" is key here. We are still moving in the same direction, but it's very much like lurching or hurling ourselves in the general vicinity of where we envision being. And unfortunately I suspect this is fairly normal.
I don't understand why this is, or how to fix it. I just know I'm exhausted at the end of every day, and that means that I must be doing something wrong. I told my husband yesterday, who seems to be bearing the burden of our lurching on the deeper recesses of his mind lately, that all I'm looking for is balance. And by that I mean, I'm working damn hard to give my family a damn good life. My intention is to start loving it and enjoying it as much as I'm working for it.
I think at the root of our problem is that we have different definitions of work and fun.
He can't seem to reconnect with me unless we're alone and on holiday. Daily chores which weigh heavy on me because of their sheer quantity and repetitiveness, are heavy for him in the smallest measure. While I see that many hands make light work and fun together sooner, he sees that he could be having fun on his own now, and doing work later (which of course rarely comes).
I don't know how to change this. And I'm not sure I'm willing to expend the effort anymore. In the last week or two that I've been actively writing in this extremely public journal, I've been able to let go of so much of the angst I've been carrying with me. I'm still beat up and tired. I can barely keep my eyes open on a good day. But I'm managing to do something fun every single day, and I've got absolutely no more energy to waste on trying to fix something on my own. There are three spokes in this wheel, and until we're all touching an axle and rubber at the same time, we'll never roll smoothly in any direction. And with only two hands and two feet, I can only manage to keep myself and my child in that wheel. Right or wrong, while my inclination is to try and save my husband here, I think this time he has to be on his own.