My Little Sponge

I have to tell you that I have noticed that Lucas is becoming more aware of things. It's almost overwhelming to see him looking at everything, taking everything in. And now he's starting to grab things: the pretzal my Mom was eating, the ink pen I was writing with, anything he can close his fingers around. (Note to self: Do not allow him near ANY utensils...) Sometimes I wonder if he is trying to destroy his sweet little face. I have already made it a point that he gets to hold nothing that has tiny pieces that he can rip off with his mean little hands and swallow. Pretty soon, he'll be crawling. Hes trying to roll over completely. I have to tell you, having a baby is good for the old ego. He can be crying and fussing, and all I have to do is take him from whoever has him, and he buries his face in my neck, grabs my hair and calms down. It makes me feel good. And breastfeeding really is a bonding time for a mother and her child. We sit in the living room, and we just look at eachother, and I talk to him. I tell him all kinds of things. It'll be nice when hes old enough to respond and understand what I mean.

While things are good with Lucas, I almost can't say the same for Jeremy and I. Thats one thing about us: we love passionately and we fight just as passionately. And unfortunately, there seems to be an issue with our well defined roles. Before Lucas, we each did what we did. We each did whatever had to be done, and for the most part, we worked as a team to get it done. Since Lucas was born, those roles have become undefined. And right now, its more like survival then it is team work. And it isn't pleasant. Sometimes, I feel like we go around in circles and never come to a conclusion. He can't see past his sacrifices. I can't see past the fact that he doesnt recognize how difficult it is to be responsible for another person every morning. If you are a Mom, you understand. We are predominantly the ones who take the kids to the babysitter and pick the kids up. This is double time for me because I work an hour and fifteen minutes from where I live. One of my babysitters lives in Poquoson, which is 20 minutes from where I work and 45 minutes from my house. He goes there 2 days a week. It's tiring. Especially when you leave home at 6:30 in the morning, and dont get home until 7. Its like a tug of war. And its ridiculous. So, we start to get snippy, and then it turns into an out and out fight that ends with Lucas hysterical, me in tears, and Jeremy spinning in a new dimension of pissed off that I have never seen before. Deep down, I know its all the stress, but also in my secret heart, I wish it didnt have to be that way. He asked me Sunday night if I had stopped loving him. Stopped loving him? Do you ever stop loving someone? How does that happen? How can you just stop loving someone? How can you just not care anymore? Because its not easy for me. I dont think I would ever stop loving him. I am smart enough to know that you can love someone, you just cant be with them, and that isnt even our situation. I cant even define us sometimes: its like we are friends, lovers, enemies, and partners all jumbled in to one big bubble, and who knows what the outcome actually is. Its insane. We say stupid things to eachother. Things that hurt. But then on the flip side of it, we can say some of the most romantic and lovely things to eachother.

I am looking forward to a week on the beach. We started to fall for eachother while we were at the beach. It just has this magic about it: so much power, and beauty, its to the ground what the stars are to the nights sky. I know, I am so silly. Hes mad at me, and I am writing about how much I love him.