Stress

Stress is a funny thing. Very dependent on the day, the hour, the minute. Even the weather seems to be playing a part in my stress level lately. Enough snow to excite my 3-year old, not enough to go make snow angels. He was bummed. And I take that hard. I think more than anything I hope to limit the dissappointment in my child's (soon to be children's) life. I know that I can't stop all the pain and heartaches that life will throw at them, and I wouldn't want to. Pain is a vital part of life, for nothing makes you appreciate what you have more. But I think I can work on the little day to day things. Limit their stress level for that minute or so.

And the whole pregnancy thing is tough. And yes, I mean on the guy. The woman suffers, there is no doubt. But there are support groups, friends and evne strangers that wish the Mom luck and tell their stories of what they have been through.

As the Dad, I suffer in silence, mostly. I try not to vent to my wife, because she feels that it is her fault. Her fault that I work all day and clean and cook all night. And in a way it is. But it's an odd paradox. See, I wish she would get up and help once in awhile. Bt I'm the first one to stop her and tell her to go relax. So I guess if I have anyone to blame for my feelings of frustration and fatigue, it would be me.

What do you know. My wife is right. Everything is my fault.