A more ideal spot than this icky gray late April afternoon. (A snap from my 2016 Cuban adventure.)

I don’t know what’s been up with me lately, but I’ve been in a bit of a funk.

Potential causes include, but aren’t limited to: a crap job, moving for the second time in a year, the marathon of first-year parenting, the endless Canadian winter…

Mat tries his best to encourage me to do mood-corrective activities, like exercising, but sometimes the very thought of exercise makes me angry… that’s a normal thing, right?

To top off how much of a funky person this has all made me, I’m the absolute worst to my poor husband; it’s as if all his wonderfulness and supportiveness and pick-up-the-slack-ness makes it worse by amplifying my incompetence… that’s also probably a normal feeling, right? To feel resentful toward your awesome partner who only wants the best for you?

Post-partum depression comes to mind, but not only does that sound extreme, it also seems a bit late. It’s already been almost a year, and I’m not angry toward or feeling disconnected from the baby. I just feel generally exhausted, uninspired and unmotivated, and stuck in a never-ending pattern of chores and care-taking. The funky mood feels more baby-adjacent than directly related. I have read the mommy blogs that say PPD can hit at anytime in the first year and sometimes beyond, and can have varying degrees of severity. Sometimes it’s associated with weening… but we went through that a couple months ago and the most depressing part about that was the forehead acne. So, if I had to self-diagnose, I’d say it’s most likely not this.

So what is it that’s making me so cranky and unpleasant?

I really blame it on the job insecurity. The anticipated benefits of taking this secretary job have fallen flat and only postponed the inevitable anxiety of looking for a job. And to be honest, it’s also the frustration of being back here, again, stressing about finding a job for the millionth (ok, third) time since moving to Québec. Not to mention being nervous, again, about the scarcity of a job that is both well-suited to my background, but also my language. Yes, my French has gotten better - but the professional standard is still years away from the level at which I am currently. I can barely get through one day at this secretary job without making some stupid mistake - and there I only have to speak French maybe 40 percent of the time!!

(Sub-rant: Can I just say that I am completely OVER the language politics of this province and how they are impossible to expel from the center of my universe. Can I just have a different issue gnawing at me daily, please?) End sub-rant.

So now’s the time for an upbeat section about what I can do to act like an adult and get over all of this, and myself.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(Section still in early, pre-wisdom stages of development.)

I don’t really know where I’m going with all this, or why I even feel like it’s a good idea to share this here, in a space best reserved for cute baby pictures and happy text about lovely activities we do as a family. I guess I figure the life happening outside of the photo crop deserves a little attention, too.

I think I need a vacation, or at least a weekend to myself. Though I feel somehow guilty about it, like it’s some kind of defeat not to be able to make it all the way through without needing one. (All the way through what, I don’t know… 18 years? That seems extreme). Mat is busy with school and yet he does so many things - pretty much all the cooking, along with carting Benji to and from daycare everyday - and never complains at all. Meanwhile, it’s like I barely do anything for all the lead that he takes. And yet of the two of us, I’m the one having a hard time keeping myself together.

Can I possibly slap another layer of frosting onto this pity-party cake??

An attempt at a moms’ getaway with some girlfriends fell through, in light of how difficult it is to organize everyone - I mean, everyone is a mom, what was I thinking? Then I started thinking about just driving someplace pretty and peaceful on my own and renting myself a b&b. But that sounded lonely. (But Shannon, you just said you wanted a break!) I know, I know. I don’t know what I want. Just more hours in a day?

Mat has talked about going on a camping trip with the baby for a weekend… that might be just the ticket. I would definitely take some alone time in this apartment that I’ve poured so much anxiety into decorating. 48-hours sitting in a spotless, poopy-diaper-less version of our home with a glass or three of wine thrown in and all the binge-worthy Netflix I want… that does actually sound like a beautiful break.

Ooo, and a bubble bath, and sleeping in until 7 a.m., and not planning any meals, and only doing the dishes for one…

I mean, can you think of anything more overflowing with bliss?