The Meltdown

It finally happened.

I finally had a pregnancy meltdown. It's not that I hadn't cried in the last four months, but I had good reasons for those tears. Like reading the last Harry Potter book. Or watching the last Harry Potter movie. Or watching a best friend from college marry the love of his life.

But this was brought on by painting. I am trying to get a number of house projects done before the baby's arrival, and I am taking on the paint-related ones on my own (Matt hates to paint). While there had been plenty of spots that needed to be touched up and rooms that needed to be repainted altogether, I hadn't painted since the week we moved in, almost two years ago. Until last month, when I repainted one of our bathrooms and our laundry room.

This weekend, I took on the nursery and our living room. The nursery was fine, but as I was touching up the white ceiling and white baseboards, I fell apart. I realized there wasn't one room in the house that we could consider "done" or "perfect" and that spiraled into "nothing will ever be perfect" and "I just want everything to be perfect for when the baby gets here."

Add the paint drama to the growing to-do list to friend drama to family drama to typical stress to a busy week to an upcoming busy week to a messy house put on hold due to - you guessed it - painting and it hit.

I cried. And said, "Oh, crap, I'm gonna cry a bunch. And I was doing so well."

Thankfully, I have the best husband in the world. Matt offered to take a personal day (a personal night, in his case) in order to help me paint. So he did. And while I am still feeling very upset and overwhelmed, I am reminded that I have a wonderful husband who is with me every step of the way...As he proved today by painting, even though he hates it.

He must love me.