I said I won't quit; this time, I'm falling into my own trap of emotional mud puddle. Sigh. I closed my door to happiness yesterday. My daughter, ever the inquisitive, asked me why I was not smiling. I told her I'm tired because of housework: finished laundry, cleaned bathrooms and organized closets. You know what her innocent heart told me? "Don't do it, Nanay. You rest in the couch." I almost wanted to bawl out like a pig in slaughter house as I was so touched, but then - "Yesterday, I run and run in the playground and I was tired and I rest in the couch." OK. She did not do that the day before yesterday. Yesterday is her word for earlier or few days ago or once upon a time. But maybe she's right. Maybe I just need to rest.
Rest from what? From trying so hard to become a WAHM.
You see, I want to become everybody else who's rocking it big time by earning money for the family and still making it fab as a hands-on mom. The odds are at my side. Not cool, I tell you. It's making me sick, literally. I also took a day's rest from being so available for my husband. I'm always the one who sends him messages all the time. I also call him whenever I can. So yesterday (the real usage and not the little girl's hehe), I decided to drown myself with housework so I won't feel the need to text him. I felt that the romance part of our marriage is too steady it becomes platonic. It's not that I'm looking for something to fight about, it's just that we are in the stage that in order to avoid arguments and heated discussions, we will keep mum about it. Not healthy, I know. But my husband and I are humans. We are bound to have imperfections. I'm thankful though that whenever I lose my sanity, he never loses his. And he keeps me back on my senses by giving me no-nonsense advice. My husband's my greatest pal.
I must pull myself out from all the monstrosity that is called hyped planning. I shall let my Big Boss up there decide what's best for me. Yes, like what this fab little person inside me has been saying, "rest, not quit".