Key Grip

Have you ever just sat there at the end of the movie and watched the credits roll? I'm guessing that you have at least once.

For me, there are always roles that stick out like Key Grip and Best Boy and then I wonder what that truly entails. I mean, I know that I could Google it, but that's not the point. I figure that those unheralded positions are essential or else why would they be listed for every movie? But they're obviously behind the scenes. Not the director, or the producer, or the headlining star. They have a part to play and they do it. They make enough of a difference that their absence would be felt, but there are no awards that I know of for even those that do the very best at their given tasks.

That's how I feel sometimes. Like the Key Grip, or at least what I perceive what being one is like.

I make the phone calls, I write the blog, I do the research, I make the food for the potluck, I invite people over, I meet people in other cities, I write the emails, I drive to the far appointments, I maintain the schedule, I worry enough for the both of us. The emotional stuff.

But I can't relax or feel that is enough.

I envy that in my husband. He does a fantastic job with Playette and she absolutely adores him. He wakes her up most mornings, changes her diaper, takes her downstairs and patiently sits with her while she drinks her milk, making sure that she doesn't drink too much at one time or throw it on the floor when she's done. He'll give her the nebulizer treatment and then dress her most days and even make an attempt to do her hair every once in a while. On Mondays, every other Wednesday, and Fridays, he takes her to daycare. He picks her up on Tuesday for Speech Therapy and Thursday for Physical Therapy. He takes her to see the Pediatrician more often. He makes dinner more often. He gives baths more often.

He is the headliner.

I wish I felt better about that. Because someone has to do it, right? And since he's a student and also in the military, now is a good time for that, right? Because he'll be deployed at some point and that will all be me, right?

I know we each do our part, but...

Yesterday, I was asked by one of Playette's team if I had any questions at that time (I was alone) because, as it was put, "I hardly ever see you."

Ugh.

There's a reason for that. I know there is. I work outside of the home. That wasn't my goal when I met BD, and I didn't change my mind when I was pregnant. We were prepared for me to stay home. We had saved money and learned how to live off of one income. But then everything changed when she was born.

I no longer felt like I was enough for her. She needed more than I felt I could give. I was not the SuperMom that existed in my mind. If she did not excel, it would be on me. I had no other children and there was even guilt from that reality. Who would she interact with? Who would set the example that only another child could? Who would motivate her? Surely not me. Who was I? I was not special. I did not believe I was chosen because of all of my positive attributes like so many people liked to tell me I was. I knew myself to be lazy, choosing a nap over cleaning. The person with journals all over the house with a handful of entries in each because I couldn't be so bothered to keep up with them. Surely her placement with me was a mistake and my daughter needed more than I could provide.

So she went to daycare and I found a job shortly thereafter.

That was harder than I thought. I still felt that decision was best for us, but how do you balance it all? Therapies, IFSPs, Parents as Teachers Program, Support Group, Babycenter, Blogosphere, TriCare referrals, DSAsv, DSANV, MFT...and being a "normal" family in the midst of it all? Wanting to be looked at as just another family, like anyone else, while still asking for grace because of the extra commitments?

I cut out some things, sure. But it's still a constant effort. I can't read everything and be everywhere all at one. I want to be invited to gatherings and not be the one that people don't want around because I make them uncomfortable by simply "being."

I know what I'm doing is important, but...

Relax.
Relate.
Release.

Dammit if it doesn't always feel that way.

I already know Part II of this post will be "Guilt."

Holla if you hear me.