I am....

...irritated.
I'm not unhappy, or depressed, just...irritated. Maybe I'm having an early 30's crisis. I used to blog, I used to read other people's blogs, I used to do more stuff out with the kids, I used to be more social, I used to be able to have a glass of wine or two, I used to look forward to my evenings after the kids were in bed. Now? I dread the evenings (especially laying in bed) because that's when the heart palpitations occur and they freak me out and make me think I'm going to have a heart attack or a stroke (irregular heart rates raise risk by at least %15, so I'm not a weirdo for thinking this). I can't drink much, if any, alcohol because that just makes it worse. I'm not sleeping well. When I do have free time now all I want to do is either take a shower or read my book. I should be showering right now, actually, because Carter is at preschool and Owen is napping. F#@*!
I'm tired and irritated, goddammit.

I really want to write down all of the cute, wonderful and utterly hilarious things my boys are doing these days but I feel trapped by my current condition. My dumbass "panic disorder". A stupid ass behavioral condition that I have somehow inherited from both sides of my family. I want to be the person I was 9,10, 12 months ago. I want to be more light-hearted again. It makes me mad. But seriously, I'm not depressed or unhappy....just frustrated.

Having children affects people differently, obviously. I developed a whole lot of fear. Fear for my children, fear for my own health and the health of my husband because I want us to be there for our kids until we are old and gray. This fear comes from love, of course, but still... There are mom's out there who "turn their kids loose" and shrug off the bumps, bruises and tears. I guess that's not me. There are mom's out there that barely make an effort to actually "parent" their children and spend all of their time watching daytime soaps. That's not me, either. I've taken on being a MOM as my sole existence on this planet. Have I lost myself along the way?
I sometimes wonder who that girl was that climbed mountains and traveled to foreign countries. Who was she that felt exhilarated by a thrilling rollercoaster ride or standing in a truck bed as it wove it's way through mountain roads of South America? Who was she that drank warm rum from a Cola bottle and salsa danced on a steamy Cuban night? Who? Because either I have forgotten her or I have lost her. Losing who I was, frightens me. I'm hoping I'll remember.

I frown more, now.
I nag.
I "bluster" at my children and husband.
I don't know who I am anymore besides a MOM.

What happens when the kids are in elementary school? I feel like I'm not really sure what I will be doing "when I grow up". It's very odd. Will I still be held back by my "disorder"? Will I go back to my old "career" (I say this loosely because being an archaeology field tech isn't exactly a job to retire to, therefore not a career in my eyes).
My husband wants me to write a book, start my own business, go to law school....anything. He has strong ambitions for me and I'm like, "uhhhhhh, I dunno....". He thinks I'm brilliant and I think I'm vague and average. He thinks I'm wildly creative and I think I'm rather narrow and boring. So one of us is right and one of us is wrong. Logically...
Anyway, this does all sound like some sort of life crisis but I really don't feel awful about it all, just kinda confused.
I would like to keep up with the blog like I used to, if only for my memories of this time in our lives. It is really so fleeting and precious. Maybe I will, maybe I won't...we'll see. I'm glad my husband is so encouraging and optimistic, though, because that is what keeps me afloat. Without him, I am lost. Without my boys, I am nothing.
Ohhh, so dark and reflective. :)


Next time I stab at these sticky laptop keys I will be cracking a few jokes and uploading pictures to bring us all up to speed. When will that be? Who the hellllll knows.