My first journal entry. Beats the hell out of sending daily emails.
Tooth number 5 is coming in on my darling daughter. We had a good morning. I managed to drag myself out of bed at 6, make coffee, change her diaper, get her breakfast, and drink said coffee within a half an hour. The rest of the time was spent dressing her, chasing her down the hall, pulling her away from the bathroom trash, and - wonder of wonders - actually making my own breakfast, a humble bagel with cream cheese, but at least it was something.
(Oh and I did actually manage to dress myself today, too. Just in case you were wondering.)
I don't want this journal to be a daily listing of mundanity. I suppose I'm a little shy in opening up - can you bear with me for a while? I was originally inspired by Sam's model but I don't know if I can reach that level of honesty with you yet - whoever you are - whether you're a friend I already know or a friend I may know in the future, or some unlucky slob who stumbled upon this account by accident.
I hope I don't spend too much time on this at work - after all, I'm so swamped with world-shattering emergencies here that if I don't come in for a week the plant would probably shut down.
I have a counseling appointment tomorrow. I had some good advice from a friend who really ought to know - she said if I wasn't comfortable with the counselor not to bother coming back. Deep healing, she said, can only happen in an atmosphere of trust.
And maybe that's why I am wondering about my marriage. Because after all this dark water under the bridge, can either of us trust enough to heal from the wounds we've inflicted on each other?
I don't know. I hope so - I hope that eventually his voice will warm up to me again and we can play a friendly game of chess (if the baby will let us!), that we will someday sleep in the same bed again and fill our house with happiness. It shouldn't be our daughter's job to be happy in our place.