I have realized that I am no good at many things that an adult should be good at. Like saving money, even when I really need to because there is another mouth to feed that is taking more and more to do so. Like living off of bad sleep or little sleep for weeks at a time. I get really grouchy and emotional and occasionally my anger rushes in a little fast which causes me to shut down and occasionally cry. Yes, I cry with the kid and he doesn’t like it anymore than I do.
I am also bad at choosing things that need to be done over time-wasting games or social media. Things like turning in receipts for reimbursement to keep a community meal going. Or email 300 people to get a couple more spots filled in. I am bad at getting to the bus to make it work on time. I am not good at waking up when I have heard the jazz station going for multiple songs….yes, I wake up to the jazz station…or a giggling baby… which ever happens first. I am bad at eating oatmeal without sugar and maple syrup and fatty nuts. I am bad at saying no to the 3rd cup of coffee lately.
I am bad at being caring and loving and living out ANY of my passions as of late. Instead I sit. I mope. I fret. I daydream of days past. Days when an evening could consist of sleeping or reading. Or writing.
I am bad at writing constantly. I am bad at realizing that is how I process and cope and declutter the thoughts (not voices) in my head.
I am bad at doing dishes, or laundry, or any housework really. I am bad at caring that they don’t get done by me… a lot.
But I am good at being a father who craves time with his 6 month old son more than anything else. And occasionally I am good at trying to show my wife love and that she means more than petty chores.
And today, that almost feels like enough.