Last night Chris and I made it out to the movies and although we really wanted to see Identify Theft (for the sheer ridiculousness of it), we got the times mixed up and instead we watched Bruce Willis crash huge cars for two hours in the billionth Die Hard. It has been years since I've gone to an action film and HOLY CRAP the previews are different. After the first one, I not only needed a hearing aid but I turned to Chris and said "WOW GUNS ARE AWESOME, LET'S GO TO WALMART AND BUY SOME!"
Is this what some people are watching at the movies? No wonder these clowns are arguing for assault weapons in Kindergarten classrooms!
Anyways, Die Hard was so horrific that it was awesome. I was in charge of concessions and so we sipped our Sprecher's Root Beer (yay Wisconsin!) and ate apple slices and M&Ms while we watched Bruce defy death five hundred times. Sometimes we laughed out loud and afterwards wondered if there was anyone in that theater who wasn't laughing ironically. It was a great time.
Then we got home and relieved my mom (who was tending to The Noanster) and talked about the daycare that called us yesterday with an open spot. We're taking a tour next week and suddenly last night I fell into a sopping mess just THINKING about leaving Noah in a random building in the financial district while the two of us go to work. (Good lord, I am so sick of the hundreds of ways we can guilt ourselves as parents... can I just put out an open "GOOD JOB!" to all the parents out there? Cause I'm sure there are 10,000 ways you're convincing yourself otherwise daily.)
I didn't get much sleep after that, just lay there and thought about how tough every decision feels lately and wondering if this is just how life will be now and forever. I feel like I'm doing better and then I have dismal thoughts like that and then it occurs to me that maybe this depression is so much deeper than I thought... like realizing you're in a diving pool instead of the 3 foot kiddie section.
I'm hopeful that one day I'll wake up and I won't feel like this (even though it's hard to believe sometimes). And no matter what, I want to remember that I tried so hard. I've been pulling out every trick in the book to snap myself out of this, Oprah and seeing friends and reading books and snuggling cats and dance parties with the baby and baking and bubble baths and funny television shows and saying something I'm grateful for each day and more. I think it's easy for us to look back and say "you know, I really should have XYZ'd and then it would have been much easier," but I'm telling my future self to let it go. You tried hard, you've been trying, and you're clawing around trying to save yourself every minute of every day.
You did good.