First Day

Today is G's first day back to work.  He showered and dressed and then woke me, and I threw on a robe and made him some coffee and we had cereal together sitting at the table.  He said it felt like a good start to the day.  I packed the rest of his lunch up (quiche from last night, salad with cracklins, some crisps and an apple), and then he was kissing me goodbye and out the door.

So here I sit.  It feels oddly normal to be by myself and yet a part of me is thrown back to that first day after he left in February, where I found myself trying to keep busy and realizing I had done everything in the main living areas I could do by noon.  I look around now at a living room with piles of things that need to go elsewhere (from emptying out the nursery and separating things into donate boxes), and think that is what I will do today.  I'll clean the kitchen and I'll sweep and vacuum and mop and tidy down here.  The dishwasher runs, the washing machine will soon be filled with clothes, normal housewife things.

Only, if I'm being honest, they're not normal for me.  I spent the first 4 years of our marriage arguing with G over our home, but found I was no better at maintaining it either.  So we've been working gradually at what I need to stay calm, which is "a place for everything and everything in it's place."  I crave that sort of order to make my days easier.  I need the organized and tidy home to feel calm.  And because he works and I stay home, whether I'm good at it or not, it's up to me.  

I'm phenomenal at organizing.  I can make things look pretty as a picture.  But maintaining it, keeping up a routine of cleaning and puttering about is not something I do naturally.  I naturally am inclined to think I have all the time in the world and let's face it, I'd much rather nap and read.  But this time I feel a sense of urgency.  The braxton hicks contractions have begun.  They tightened my belly, causing me to gasp with surprise while shopping yesterday.  Not painful, but uncomfortable and a sign that time is dwindling.  And I want a home that is relaxing for G to come home to, one that even with a newborn is easy to maintain. 

I spent the 6 months he was gone mainly sleeping, and I don't feel guilty about it, because I'm told that's exactly what my job was during most of that time.  But I don't have the luxury of doing that all the time.  She's coming in less than 2 months and while naps will be a blessing, I need to keep moving.  I need to remember that a chic life is not a lazy life.