The other day I texted my old therapist. The text said 'Hi. Remember me? I have a baby now and need therapy'. Verbatim. Within seconds I had a response that said 'OMG!' and then 'I have missed you'. My therapist gets my sense of humor, which, for me is one of the most important things. I need to be able to laugh about all of this at some point and my therapist one time got up and did a dance routine mimicking asking a guy in 'the club' how big his dick was, which means she's one of my forever people.
We had one session via Skype wherein I just dumped the entirety of the last 1.5 years out on her. All she could say was 'wow' and then 'congratulations on still standing'. That session came at a time where I was feeling extraordinarily low. I don't pretend to be on my A game all the time. In fact, at best I like to feel I'm at a solid C. In that moment I was as far from C as I had felt since the dark postpartum days of heartbreak and the sads. Hearing her say that though was really reassuring. She is not one to treat with kid gloves and when I've gone to her before, beaten down and sad she has essentially told me to put on my big girl panties and figure my shit out. And here she was saying 'no, you are 100% in the right for feeling this way. You are awesome'. And I cried and all I could say was thank you.
In our second session when I laid out all of my stress on her feet, she looked at me and said in all seriousness 'what you need is a wife'. And you guys, I really do. I need a wife. I need someone who, when I am working 15 hour days, makes sure that there are groceries and the laundry is put away and the cats are fed. A few hurdles to this, however. One, I am not a lesbian and two, the vast majority of dudes I have met when I say to them 'I will be the primary breadwinner and you just need to take care of the house' look at me like I have 17 heads.
So. I have decided to outsource. I am finally, at long last, adopting one of my mom's life mottos which is this: Do you have a problem? Can money fix that problem? Great. Throw money at the problem until it goes away. In the last 8 months I have resisted this as I wanted to prove I could do it all. That I was some kind of mythical hero. All it has gotten me though is fried. Fried with a pile of clean laundry the size of Mount Olympus, in desperate need of someone to just put it all away. I feel like I have been given permission to breathe again. To say, you know, what I am doing solo is pretty damn extraordinary and hiring someone to come and put away my laundry and vacuum every so often doesn't negate that. Ultimately I think it will make me a better mom because I won't be so stressed every minute of the day that I don't have time to work my absurdly long ass days, play with her, sleep and keep the house in the new manner of fastidiousness that I have recently found. (Related, somewhat tangentially: I now want all the things clean all of the time, which is a rapid departure from just throwing things in the air and letting them fall where they may. I blame motherhood as I want my kid to grow up in a really nice, clean, welcoming home. Piles of crap do not allow this. However, this new cleanliness habit means I have found myself hand cleaning grout at 12am instead of sleeping. This is why I'm dumb.)
Anyway this is a really long winded way of saying: I'm hiring myself a wife and I have never been so happy.