needy.

i'm not sure how to juggle being everything i'm supposed to be.

it's like i can do one thing...but not several.  i feel like i know how to be a good mom. 

it takes time.  extra time.  and patience.  and play.  lots of play.  and lots of talk.  pratt has started saying, "let's just talk, momma."  i say that to him alot when i'm trying to distract him.  putting clothes on him is getting harder and harder.  so i use the "let's talk" thing when i'm trying to do that.  we talk about our day.  our feelings.  our loves.  our favorite stuff.  you know, we just chit chat.  last night i heard him crawl out of his bed, and i went in there to find him on his rug with his dog.  the dog talks.  scout.  i asked him what he was doing and he told me that he and scout were "just talking".  hilarious.  i told him they needed to talk in bed.  not on the floor.  i'm pretty sure he rolled his eyes at me and crawled back into bed. 

i've been good at lots of other things too.  a good junior auxiliary member.  a good friend, i think.  a good pregnant person.  i choke down those horse pills every day.  i've been a good housekeeper.  i've kept up with the laundry.  even putting clint's clothes in drawers instead of leaving his full, overflowing basket on his side of the bed so that he's forced to see it and forced to put it up at night.  (passive aggressive...no!  not me)

but i've neglected to be a good wife.  i can't remember the last time clint and i really talked to each other. 

yes, we talk at the dinner table.  but we have a 2 year old child screaming over us to be heard.  to be seen by daddy.  to be laughed at.  and played with.  because he doesn't eat.  last night he had 2 mushrooms, 2 cutie orange slices and that was that.  he was up and ready to play. 

i'm tired.  and grouchy.  and so when clint gives up within five seconds of putting pratt's nightshirt on because he's "not willing to fight", i'm aggitated.  i fight all day with the kid.  that's what i do.  if you don't fight with him, you never win.  you become one of those parents who says, "oh, yeah...you know.  i don't want to fight with jimmy.  so jimmy doesn't go to school. or to bed."  yeah, well.  and eventually because no one fought with jimmy, jimmy is in jail.  i'm just sayin'....

whatever.  i'm a fighter.  i'm gonna fight with him.  because in the end, i always win.  and it's not because i want to win, but it's because i really do know better.  yes, i said it.  i'm officially a parent. 

but back to my role as a wife.  it's probably the hardest one.  because at this point, pratt doesn't really argue much.  i mean, he does.  but in the end, i think he usually understands where i'm coming from when i explain the situation to him.  but clint...well, i can't control him.  i know i'm not supposed to.  but sometimes i wish i could convince him of things.  like wave a magic wand and force him to agree with me. 

it doesn't work like that. 
and so i'm a little lonely.  i mean, i'll be okay.  we will be okay.  i know that. but this time is so full of peaks and valleys.  and i'm in a valley. 

i want a date night.  where we hold hands.  and dress up for dinner.  where he wears cologne.  and tells me that i keep the house so clean.  and that i am such a good mom.  and that he cannot imagine being married to anyone else.

has he said all these things to me before?  yes.  actually he said them last week. 

but i'm in a needy place.  and i need them again today.  and maybe tomorrow.  heck, maybe twice today. 

i'm sorry for the poor, pitifiul me post.  i'll be better soon.