It's our younger daughter's 11th birthday.

Today...

I learned that sometimes the craving for caffeine is a sign that shit's about to get interesting.

I learned that I can do certain portions of Chris's job while under pressure.

My best laid plans died a horrible death while I was doing the above.

I woke up this morning to find my 15-month-old replaced by a child with the mental and emotional development of a two-year-old and the willful streak to match.

I learned that prepping for dinner can be enough entertainment for two children...

Provided it doesn't take too long.

I learned that I still shouldn't attempt cooking angel hair pasta because I still suck at it.

I discovered my 130-lb dog has decided the boy is an awesome playmate, and that he must object to the boy going to bed before he's played enough.

I learned I only have so much tolerance for being kicked.

Life is full of little lessons.

Yes, I'm alive. Really I am.

Avoid writing? No, I don't do that, not at all...

Um, yeah. I do.

Here's the deal... I have this BIG fiction project that's been percolating in my mind for a year and a half. And I've been avoiding working on it for a year and a half, much to my detriment.

Much like I've been avoiding writing on this blog.

Wonder if there's any connection?

So what am I doing? I'm dedicating time every day to the big fiction project.

And so I don't wimp out, I'm doing it before I do anything else in the morning other than feed the kiddo, get dressed, and have my tea.

I haven't even had my adderall yet.

Thus why I'm sitting on the couch, watching the baby escape through the doggie door to explore the back yard, play in the dog's water, and get muddy.

I'm surrounded by dirty clothes, dirty dishes, scattered toys, and piles of stuff that needs to be dealt with.

Still, here I am, laptop at the ready, writing before doing anything else that's "necessary". Because writing is necessary too.

I've heard tell that famous writers have desks, and order, and solitude.

I'm surrounded by mess, watching the baby get dirty, with the sounds of Ice Age in the background.

Meh, I'll take what I can get.

Sorry for the lack of posting. Life has been... stressful.

So at this point I'm 28 weeks pregnant. 11 weeks and a bit to go! But I am tired, so very tired. I'm not used to being this fatigued and life stress is just adding to the fatigue. I swear, if I got news tomorrow that my husband was employed I would be much more energetic!

That being said, I've slacked off on a couple of things. A few of them are truly unnecessary, but a few of them make me feel enough better on a daily basis that I'm able to tackle more.

Adderall used to be fairly optional. It's very much not. Caffeine used to be optional. Now I might as well hook myself up with a caffeine IV.

Today took both adderall and caffeine.

Turns out my morning makeup routine is also very, very necessary.

I don't know what it is about doing my makeup in the morning but it seems to put my mindset into "work" mode. Something about the ritual, about applying everything in the required order and cleaning the brushes afterward, is very calming. I need that bit of calm right now.

Should it be voluntary? Definitely. Is it at the moment? No, not really. It's one of those few things about life that I feel like I have complete control over.

So today I took back control.  I spent an hour and a half cleaning out the master bathroom and cleaning up my mess of makeup.

Are there other projects that really needed my attention, and were higher priority? Of course, there always are. But tomorrow I get to roll out of bed and walk through a messy bedroom into a bastion of peace and order with everything I need right there. If I do things right, I can do that every day.

That's definitely worth an hour and a half of work.

Not that I can afford it (now or anytime soon), but that doesn't keep me from wanting it:

Looking forward at Thanksgiving, I don't think I've ever been this depressed. A lot of it is exhaustion, yes, but a lot of it is looking at another holiday season without the girls. I need to get my head past the next couple of months.

And so, in the middle of this financial, medical, mental, and emotional crisis, a list of things I will be doing once finances get worked out:

• Buying more lingerie, either Belabumbum or something similarly maternity-friendly.
• Getting an entire set of Pebeo Porcelaine 150 paints for my tile and mosaic work.
• Buying maternity clothes as a whole.
• Setting up the baby stuff and nursery, piece by piece.
• Buying furniture for the upstairs reading nook, or buying a new living room couch and moving our current couch up where it belongs.
• Just plain not worrying so goddamn much about everything.

Hello poor, neglected blog.

The reasons for the neglect and the motivation for this post all come from the same place.

I'm having an identity crisis. A very deep, very personal, very destructive identity crisis.

Go me?

In all seriousness though, I finally reached an understanding of why this would be.

At the time of my last posting on this blog life seemed very different. Chris was about to undergo surgery and that was all that was on my mind.

I didn't yet know that I was pregnant. I didn't know Chris would be undergoing radioactive iodine treatment. I had no idea what was coming.

Now all of that is in the rearview mirror and I find myself trying desperately to deal. Crisis mode is *mostly* over and it's on to dealing with the future.

The fun thing about crisis mode is that while you're dealing with it you have no idea what you're doing to yourself. As you pare down life in order to deal with the shitstorm you don't realize what you're giving up and what you'll need to do once it's over.

Between being a wife, mother, expectant mother, housewife, dog owner and cat owner, I'd lost complete track of everything I am that is completely separate from all of the above.

There's an inherent danger in being _______'s _______. Chris's wife. The girls' mother. Baby's mother. Jayne's owner. Eva's foster mother/mistress (she is a dog after all). All of these roles are defined by some other living thing. And I'd lost sight of everything but those roles.

The problem with all of those roles? Success in them can only be gauged second-hand through the success of the primary subject.

Am I a good wife? Doesn't that depend on Chris, and isn't that best determined by him? Am I a good mother? How do I know without the kids? If one of the dogs won't stop barking, does that mean I'm failing, or is there something else involved?

Then there's the bigger picture. Who am I in the world? As far as 99% of the blogosphere is concerned my first identity is "Chris's wife". At the doctors I am "the cancer patient's wife". At the vet I am "Jayne's owner".

None of those are really who I am, or even scratch the surface. I've allowed myself to get to the point that I'm only known as _______'s _________.

Even in blogging and online I've kind of relegated myself to the same positions. I blog on Chris's blog, but it's still his. My involvement in the forum is secondary, not primary. Even on various social sites my involvement is only secondary. I go to club meetings where Chris is the far better known person and I'm still "the wife".

Granted this is at least partially because Chris has such a big personality and such a big presence, but still...

Where am I just "Mel"?

That's a big question, and the reality is that through a mixture of circumstances and personal choice I've made it this way. I've refused to spend the time and energy necessary to be "just Mel". When your life revolves around your family and your home and your job is your family and home, _______'s ______ is the default. Being known only for yourself is far more difficult. It's also impossible, honestly. There is no going back in many ways.

Just because I'll always be _______'s ______ doesn't mean I can't be Mel at the same time. I just need to carve out some room for myself. Focus on some things some of the time that don't revolve around or include the family. Focus on some things and some projects where the success of my efforts depends only on me and therefore can be measured in a way that is clear and makes sense. Make a name for myself in some circles where I'm known primarily for myself and not for my family.

I have tons of interests where I can do that. I have tons of things I want to get into but between circumstances and guilt I've avoided taking the plunge. I just need to take the plunge. Maybe then I'll feel like I exist as someone separate. Maybe.

It's worth a shot.