Circumstance.

Time management this past week has been a bit of an obstacle for me. There seemed to be more monotonus things that needed tending to, then there was hours on the clock. I have had a crying baby, I am sure sick with, yet another ear infection, and a crying, whiney, 4 year old, suffering from allergies. This, compounded with my daily tasks, and a giant amount of anxiety this week, has caused me to not even write. Sometimes writing is so theraputic. It makes me see things and feel things about my life, in a more positive way. Sometimes, it becomes painful, and I don't want to look at it. Like the sun. It is there, and ever present, but sometimes, it is easier to ignore it, and just carry on. Too painful to look at directly. I feel like that has been a running theme in my life the last few years. Ignore the big white elephant in the room. Everyone knows it is there, just be quiet about it. Maybe, it will slowly lumber away. Money, or lack of it, mounting bills, with no ability to pay for them, the feeling of dread as I see my baby's teeth growing in and know with certainty, the enormous orthodontist bill we will have in years to come, and will we be able to pay for it...each day, knawing at me. Knawing at my mind, causing me sleepless nights, and moody, stressed days.
My husband and I talk of what we would do if we were to win the lottery. It is a fantasy, this we know, but sometimes, it is fun to step out of your life for a moment, and shop, and buy, without boundaries. We agree that we would move to East Hampton, and buy a house on the bay. Not a mansion, A great, old beach house. The kind with weathered cedar shingles, and a porch. With steps down to the beach. I can almost smell the bay breeze, and hear the metal clanging of our flagpole, as I write this. We would furnish it with garage sale finds, and old, much loved, antiques. We would have a great big kitchen, where we would have wonderful meals, with friends and family. I can almost see the glow of candelight as we sit, and laugh, and hear the kids play, and live happily, together, in our seaside home. It is a fantasy. Why must it be though? Is the mound of bills sitting in the drawer, and the 1-800 numbers calling, at the same time every day, really preventing this life. Are we victims of circumstance, or are we creating these circumstances?
I had a nice bank account when I lived in New York. I longed for nothing. Treated myself well. Paid every bill as it came in the mail. No 1-800 numbers called. Yet, I still had a knawing pain within me. Constant heartache over a relationship that went on far too long in my life. Years of a broken heart. Waiting to be with someone, who never quite wanted to be with me all the way. This was my obstacle to perfect happiness. If I could attain this happy relationship with this particular person, my life would be complete. Or would it have been? Like the pile of bills that seem to be preventing my husband and I to acheiving a wondrous life, was this yet another circumstance?
Some nights, my husband and I go to bed, and we just simply say to eachother, "Goodnight". We are tired. We are stressed. He works 60 hours a week, and I feel like I am on duty 24/7 taking care of the girls, and nursing the baby throughout the night. We live more like roomates, then man and wife sometimes. I want to reach my hand out and touch him. I want to tell him that it is going to be OK, but I don't know if it is.
I wish I could just pack our bags, and move us into that seaside house, and light the candles, and prepare the meal, and sit us down, and just bask in the glow.
Am I already in that house?