inside a meltdown

I am pretty much bored at work 75% of the time. I say 75% because 10% of the time i am planning a far away, exotic holiday or trying to find cheap plane tickets to some European destination, 8% of the time i spend on facebook, 2% of the time I spend doing actual work and the remaining 10% of my time, i spend reading random blogs. I start off with the usual blogs, Leah, Stef, Katie, Heather, Abby....and then click onto the people's blog list that they have up, then go to random page to look at who they have up and so on and so on. it really passes the time. and as i count down every last minute waiting for the work day to end, anything to pass the time is helpful.

a common theme that I have noticed in all the blog reading I do is that a vast majority of the females who blog seem to have a desire to be great homemakers, great cooks, great moms, have a great house, the perfect nursery, always be super cute, always have their kids super cute....essentially be the perfect little cookie cutter family. I don’t mean that last sentence quite as harshly as it sounds. there is nothing wrong with wanting to be a great house wife who is an exceptional cook. i think being a stay at home mom is a noble profession, I am not trying to downplay the difficulties that come with that at all. However, domesticity is not the only thing the blogs have in common. everyone lives in America.

that may seem like a small factor, but that particular small factor was the catalyst for my breakdown last night. and not just a breakdown, but a proper sobbing, hyperventilating, nuclear meltdown resulting in destruction of major towns kind of breakdown.

It’s weird the things you never really think about. i always said i wanted to marry someone from overseas, but never really thought about the detailed visa process, the continued back and forth between countries, the immediate reaction to sickness or joy and then realising that the same things don’t transfer (or even exist) on opposite sides of the ocean. i never really thought about any of that. i also never thought about how engrained into my mind certain ideas of 'life' are based solely on the area in which I grew up. I never thought about the cultural and monetary differences that different regions and different countries would present to me. I liked the idea of living in another culture. but that’s what it was-an idea. i had never done it before, so i had nothing to compare it to. no real way of knowing what to expect. i must say, living over here has exceeded my expectations in so many ways. but its been harder than expected in so many ways too.

all jokes about chick-fil-a and goldfish aside, living in London has presented me with the very real possibility that I will not get to be the 'domestic goddess' so to speak that my fellow bloggers so enjoy. Because Rhys and I live in the second most expensive city in the world, as opposed to Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas and Kansas where most of the bloggers seem to live, a house on some land with several rooms is not a feasible option. it is not affordable. so whilst i am pregnant and really wanting to prepare for little baby hulk, I am not sure how to. We only live in one room. I absolutely love our flat. love it. i think it is beautiful. but it is one room. i am struggling to see where a baby will fit. All you Friends fan's out there...think back to Joey and Rachel.... 'a baby is like this big, it can fit right here, or here on this chair'... that is literally the point Rhys and I are at. Joking about which couch little hulk will sleep on.

so what do i do? pray? think logically? trust that because God has so graciously given us this gift of a child that He will also so graciously provide? No. I do none of those things. Instead i attempt to plan a pre-baby getaway. That’s right, a really extravagant tropical holiday. I am thinking 2 weeks in the Caribbean, or Mexico, or Greece. Really? Is that really what I am doing? after just going through the fact that we can barely afford to live ourselves, let alone think about having a child, i want to spend hundreds of pounds, nay thousands of pounds, for an exotic holiday!? what is wrong with me? hence, meltdown.

We cant go on a holiday. I want to go some where. where are we going to live? what city? what country? will we have a baby room? will we have a bouncy seat? will we have a shower? how will i give birth? what if the baby has one leg shorter than the other and everyone makes fun of him/her and i cant protect them? what if, what if, will we, will we, and i want! that was essentially my meltdown. and then i was so tired from crying that i just fell asleep. can i blame the hormones?

So what have I taken away from this? 1.) as shocking as it is to me, travel does not really answer all the questions and solve all the problems. 2.) I need more sleep. 3.) I have the best and most supportive husband in the world, who listens when I freak out and then just holds me whilst I cry. 4.) it doesn’t matter what country we live in. this is our situation because God has put us here. He will provide in exactly the ways he sees fit. 5.) I really should get to working on my book so I can start making us millions.