Valleys.

Today we slept in, after a late night of what has become very normal arguments. By the end we are saying what we always say to each other, phrases that sum up everything we hate about each other. The difference last night was the way it ended: no big blow up, it just stopped. And neither of us really cared. I closed the blinds, folded the blanket I had been using to keep my legs warm, and he walked into the bedroom.
We brushed our teeth and got ready for bed like always. I wanted to hug him, like a friend you call after a fight to cry it out with, but I resisted because I know this would have irritated him. Being all mushy gushy, lovey dovey after a fight to him is like a dog who eats their own barf, right after barfing it up. He just can't do it.
We got bad news yesterday, and the rain kept pouring down today. I didn't get a job I was quite certain I was going to get and our insurance has been raised again. Whoop-ee.
Through it all I pray God would keep me thankful--as I am walking to the recycle bins, God, thank you we are not foreclosing, God, thank you we are not dying of some horrible disease, God thank you for these flowers that Ethan totally drowned today with the hose but by Your grace look like they might make it...
But the mood will not lift, it's weighing on my shoulders, giving me neck pain.
I put in Jars of Clay, in an effort to turn things around, and tried to keep Ethan from seeing my wet cheeks when they sing, "I will sing of Your mercy that leads me through valleys of sorrow to rivers of joy," over and over and over.
I have seriously considered finding a name that means "sorrow" for this baby; it seems from the moment we found out we were pregnant, something we had been trying for, life has started crumbling all around us. I was thinking about this on the way home tonight; when we found out we were pregnant with Ethan, we skipped class and went out to breakfast. I couldn't eat I was so full of awe. We walked on clouds for nine months.
When we found out we were pregnant the second time we gave each other a dry kiss in the bathroom and I threw the stick in the garbage. Instead of clouds, we are trudging through mud.
I kept thinking this would change, that I would feel that same joy and wonder, so much so that I kept putting off getting down Ethan's tiny clothes. I wanted to feel the same way I did with Ethan when I hung them up for this little guy; the same giddiness and excitement, like being in love for the first time.
I finally decided to just do it, thinking the feeling would come while I unfolded the tiny onesies. It didn't. I had more emotion putting them away when Ethan grew out of them than I did getting them out again.
When I feel him move, I put my hand on him and feel sad, and hope he's not retarded.
***
We went to Costco and I think Joey slept the way there and back. I couldn't tell because he wears really black sunglasses, but he was his usual quiet, unless I asked him something.
Costco usually brightens my spirits. All those super cool things they sell, the bigness of it all, the free snacks on every corner. They were handing out half of a hot dog today at one of those tables.
On the way home Ethan wanted a snack, so I felt like a pretty organized, with-it mom when I remembered I had plastic cups in the back to put his popcorn in. I handed him his snack and off we went.
Joey realized I didn't strap Ethan into his car seat when he happen to glance back at Ethan standing in front of his chair as we were picking up speed on the on ramp.
"Pull over!"
"I am not pulling over on the freeway!"
I got off the next exit and Joey strapped him in. I said something like, "Ethan, if mommy ever doesn't strap you in, you need to say, mommy! Strap me in!" -- loud enogh so Joey would know this the FIRST time this has ever happened. I am sure he thinks otherwise.
***
He is at work now, it's dark and the crickets are chirping like they have all gone mad.