third trimester blues

I would really like to know if one day, I will quit feeling guilty about all the various ways I am shortchanging my child. Children. Either one.

Sassy is at Nana's for two nights. I dropped her off tonight. My dad asked me why 2 nights. I told him they would treat her better over there. He laughed like I was joking, but sadly, I'm not. Last night, I had what I'd refer to as a "toddler meltdown," you know, that same type of meltdown that happens when you push, push, push a tired toddler about three hours too far and then you pay. Only I'm old enough to curse, so I did. A lot.

And you know, that's just the tip of the iceberg. Right now my biggest guilt revolves around Christmas and my absolute, complete lack of interest in it. This is not me! Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. I love every last bit of it. The Christmas music, which I only play between Thanksgiving & Christmas, so it doesn't lose its allure. The Christmas village, meticulously set up each year on the mantel. Unwrapping each ornament to gingerly arrange on the tree, recounting where it came from and why it is special. I've barely kept myself from shoving these traditions down the throat of my previously-a-little-too-young-to-get-it daughter for the past 5 years.

But now....now that she's finally old enough to really get it, to really get into it all with me, I just don't care. The tree? Sounds like a lot of hassle and worse yet, a lot of cleanup. The village? Oh, come on, somebody will have to put that away and nobody does it right but me. And I'll have a new baby! I don't want to have to fool with a breakable village! I play the Christmas music and it really does nothing for me. Yeah, yeah, the herald angels are singing, we know. Silent night in the little town of Bethlehem, baby's in the manger, I've got my own baby to worry about right now thankyouverymuch!

Not that I'm trying to belittle the birth of Jesus, really I'm not. I feel like I should feel more of something. More awe, more wonder, more gratitude, more grace, more love, more joy, more something. But really, I feel tired. And grumpy. And way too sensitive & insecure & paranoid & hormonal for my own good. And...that's about it.

Except guilt. I feel guilty too.

So does the guilt eventually end? Do these hormones eventually normalize? Does the energy come back? Does the thick emotional skin regrow? Do the endless tears finally end? I want to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it just seems like one long ass tunnel that is called "my new life," like I'll never feel like my old self again. I hope that's not true.