Maintenance. Now.

A lot of things are falling apart in my home, all at once, it seems. I doubt the appliances conspire against us to fail in precisely the same month (although perhaps they do, having been influenced by the washing machine that eats one sock from each pair, something that’s mathematically illogical but nevertheless happens.)

I think it’s more a matter of our ability to ignore things that don’t have any current problems. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” and so on. We load the dishwasher (in my family’s case, THREE times a day), never paying attention until it starts splashing water on our clothing when we open the door or the digital display won’t come on, meaning we can’t turn the dern thing on. (In my opinion, appliances are getting too fancy!)

Our refrigerator tirelessly and uncomplainingly keeps our food cold (and therefore safe for us to eat, a truly important job), and we don’t notice it until the cheap plastic thingies that hold the shelves in begin breaking and the door no longer stays closed.

I was thinking about the word maintenance today, and how similar it is to the French word for “now” – maintenant. As it turns out (no surprise, since about 30% of our vocab comes from the French), the word maintenance is indeed from the French maintenir – “to maintain”, which comes from a combination of two Latin words, one meaning hand, the other to hold or support. Maintenance. Now. 

I’m not talking about household appliances anymore.

I read a few days ago that my Myers-Briggs personality type is the least likely to invest time in self-care, so they commonly do and go and go and do until they crash and burn.

I can relate to that.

Lately, however, I’ve been forced to acknowledge that I need to make some changes. I’m still working on what those should be. A trip to a holistic Doctor is in order, for one. I started taking my liver pills and a Vitamin B supplement again. I moved the atomizer to the bedroom so I could use it to diffuse oils to help me sleep.

And speaking of sleep.

It’s been about two years since I’ve slept through the night… that luxury (necessity?) stopped precisely when I conceived my youngest child. If I wasn’t up because of hormones and morning sickness, I was up because I was worried he was going to die, then it was pumping every 3 hours, then it was his heart monitor going off every 17 seconds all night long, then it was a nursing baby…

I’m trying to hit this problem from both sides.

I Amazoned (if that isn’t, it should be a word, like Googled) a pack of ear plugs, a blackout face mask, and a bottle of sleepytime essential oils. I also started giving the baby probiotics in the hopes that they would help his reflux, likely the cause of his nighttime waking (huge duh moment – being tired makes you forget the very things that could help your problem).

It’s not normal to be so tired that, at 2 p.m., when you remember you need to cook dinner later, the thought of that exertion makes tears come to your eyes.

Maintenance.

Now.