It's been one of those awful weeks, the kind when I thought to myself at least 27 times a day: "How the $%&@ am I going to take care of two kids and stay sane?" Yesterday I had a little meltdown and drove myself to Briana's in tears, where Jack played nicely in the back yard with Kateri and Briana made me coffee and assured me I wasn't crazy, at least not any kind of crazy that every single mother who's ever had a two year-old and/or pregnancy hormones hasn't experienced at some time or other. The other day my long-suffering husband came home from work to find the kitchen table denuded of its chairs.
"Um, where are all the chairs?"
"In the garage."
"Uh...how come?"
"I threw them there."
"Did any of them break."
"I don't know."
That's what kind of day it was. Now, that's not the kind of thing I normally do. I usually have a very positive attitude when it comes to frustration, and most of the time I'm pretty resilient and don't have a hard time bouncing back from life's little setbacks. Not lately. Lately I have been a basket-case, a weepy, needy, hormonal mess my former(usual) self neither recognizes nor approves of. The day that I threw all my chairs into the garage it seemed that every little thing that happened was the final straw, the very last thing I could stand, but I felt like that from the moment I woke up. Now, it seems to me that the qualities necessary for successful, meaningful, effective motherhood are things like patience, understanding, kindness, cheerfulness, maturity, etc. So why is it that two year-old boys and hormones make those qualities so $%&@ing difficult to cultivate?
It has occurred to me that the problem might be spiritual in nature and that I need to strive to be holier, but I quickly realized that daily Mass will not take the wiggles out of my two year-old or keep him from unloading the dirty dishwasher, nor will it cure my heartburn or keep me from crying for no rational reason. Not the mention the purely practical obstacle of getting to Mass in the first place, which would require that I be at least semi-clean and wearing something other than pajamas. Early in this pregnancy I promised that I wouldn't let myself go, that I would paint my toenails and wear cute maternity outfits and keep my house clean but I have been deeply humbled. I have seen the error of my ways and meekly accept that at this point in my life I need to recognize what my limits are and save my energies for important things. To that end, I have resolved to avoid anything which has the potential to frustrate either myself or Jack and concentrate on a few priorities and a few priorities ONLY. I will not try to do the dishes or clean the toilet while Jack is awake. I will not take him grocery shopping before a nap. I will not cook things which require long periods of standing guard at the stove, trying to distract Jack from "helping." Someday there will be a time in my life when I am thin, well-rested, well-dressed and every room in my house is neat and tidy. That day is not today, nor is just around the corner. More than likely it will not come along for quite some time, and I'm okay with that. In the meantime I will only be friends with people who are okay with my messy house, who have children themselves and understand that sometimes kids have diapers that leak poop on important personal belongings, and who can enjoy a good cup of coffee and a good cry amidst all the chaos.
Today was actually a really nice day thanks to Anna, who made me a delicious lunch and had cozy knitting/tea time with me on her couch while Jack and Talia played in the backyard. Jack fell asleep in the car on the way home so after I put him into bed I made myself a deal: if I unloaded the dishwasher I could spend the rest of Jack's nap time drinking coffee and writing in my journal. As I sat on my comfy couch enjoying my latte and personal reflection time I thought about my blog and the things I put on it. Everything I've posted about enjoying marriage and motherhood is absolutely true but it seems like a lie to leave out things like throwing my chairs in the garage and having emotional breakdowns over nothing. I think that a lot of moms(myself included) are reluctant to admit to the enormity of the challenges of motherhood because of the disdain society has for our vocation, but I don't think we're doing ourselves any favors by keeping quiet. Before I got married, a very wise woman I know told me: "It will be hard, but remember that just because it's hard doesn't mean it can't be beautiful." The inverse is also true, and just because motherhood is beautiful doesn't mean it isn't really, really hard.
So I would like to declare that I will henceforth be sharing the hard stuff; the failures, the struggles, the mood swings, the tantrums(meaning mine, not Jack's), the stretch marks, the fatigue, and all the other wonderful shortcomings that come with doing the most important job in the world. I give myself permission not to feel pressured to perform for people who don't understand me, my lifestyle, or my life choices. I give myself permission not to want 12 kids just because I'm Catholic. I give myself permission to consider myself a faithful, practicing Catholic even though I don't attend Mass daily or wear long flowery skirts on a regular basis. Or ever, actually. I give myself permission to share inappropriate information on my blog because it fulfills my need for catharsis and my resolve to be an integrated, authentic person. If you choose to visit here be forewarned: it may get ugly, but it will always be true. If you want something light and fluffy, go read a Nancy Drew book. If you want way too much information about my personal life, sit down and stay a while. Sometimes I get a little crazy, but I always have a good story and hot coffee to share.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
With a Lot of Help From My Friends
It's been one of those awful weeks, the kind when I thought to myself at least 27 times a day: "How the $%&@ am I going to take care of two kids and stay sane?" Yesterday I had a little meltdown and drove myself to Briana's in tears, where Jack played nicely in the back yard with Kateri and Briana made me coffee and assured me I wasn't crazy, at least not any kind of crazy that every single mother who's ever had a two year-old and/or pregnancy hormones hasn't experienced at some time or other. The other day my long-suffering husband came home from work to find the kitchen table denuded of its chairs.
"Um, where are all the chairs?"
"In the garage."
"Uh...how come?"
"I threw them there."
"Did any of them break."
"I don't know."
That's what kind of day it was. Now, that's not the kind of thing I normally do. I usually have a very positive attitude when it comes to frustration, and most of the time I'm pretty resilient and don't have a hard time bouncing back from life's little setbacks. Not lately. Lately I have been a basket-case, a weepy, needy, hormonal mess my former(usual) self neither recognizes nor approves of. The day that I threw all my chairs into the garage it seemed that every little thing that happened was the final straw, the very last thing I could stand, but I felt like that from the moment I woke up. Now, it seems to me that the qualities necessary for successful, meaningful, effective motherhood are things like patience, understanding, kindness, cheerfulness, maturity, etc. So why is it that two year-old boys and hormones make those qualities so $%&@ing difficult to cultivate?
It has occurred to me that the problem might be spiritual in nature and that I need to strive to be holier, but I quickly realized that daily Mass will not take the wiggles out of my two year-old or keep him from unloading the dirty dishwasher, nor will it cure my heartburn or keep me from crying for no rational reason. Not the mention the purely practical obstacle of getting to Mass in the first place, which would require that I be at least semi-clean and wearing something other than pajamas. Early in this pregnancy I promised that I wouldn't let myself go, that I would paint my toenails and wear cute maternity outfits and keep my house clean but I have been deeply humbled. I have seen the error of my ways and meekly accept that at this point in my life I need to recognize what my limits are and save my energies for important things. To that end, I have resolved to avoid anything which has the potential to frustrate either myself or Jack and concentrate on a few priorities and a few priorities ONLY. I will not try to do the dishes or clean the toilet while Jack is awake. I will not take him grocery shopping before a nap. I will not cook things which require long periods of standing guard at the stove, trying to distract Jack from "helping." Someday there will be a time in my life when I am thin, well-rested, well-dressed and every room in my house is neat and tidy. That day is not today, nor is just around the corner. More than likely it will not come along for quite some time, and I'm okay with that. In the meantime I will only be friends with people who are okay with my messy house, who have children themselves and understand that sometimes kids have diapers that leak poop on important personal belongings, and who can enjoy a good cup of coffee and a good cry amidst all the chaos.
Today was actually a really nice day thanks to Anna, who made me a delicious lunch and had cozy knitting/tea time with me on her couch while Jack and Talia played in the backyard. Jack fell asleep in the car on the way home so after I put him into bed I made myself a deal: if I unloaded the dishwasher I could spend the rest of Jack's nap time drinking coffee and writing in my journal. As I sat on my comfy couch enjoying my latte and personal reflection time I thought about my blog and the things I put on it. Everything I've posted about enjoying marriage and motherhood is absolutely true but it seems like a lie to leave out things like throwing my chairs in the garage and having emotional breakdowns over nothing. I think that a lot of moms(myself included) are reluctant to admit to the enormity of the challenges of motherhood because of the disdain society has for our vocation, but I don't think we're doing ourselves any favors by keeping quiet. Before I got married, a very wise woman I know told me: "It will be hard, but remember that just because it's hard doesn't mean it can't be beautiful." The inverse is also true, and just because motherhood is beautiful doesn't mean it isn't really, really hard.
So I would like to declare that I will henceforth be sharing the hard stuff; the failures, the struggles, the mood swings, the tantrums(meaning mine, not Jack's), the stretch marks, the fatigue, and all the other wonderful shortcomings that come with doing the most important job in the world. I give myself permission not to feel pressured to perform for people who don't understand me, my lifestyle, or my life choices. I give myself permission not to want 12 kids just because I'm Catholic. I give myself permission to consider myself a faithful, practicing Catholic even though I don't attend Mass daily or wear long flowery skirts on a regular basis. Or ever, actually. I give myself permission to share inappropriate information on my blog because it fulfills my need for catharsis and my resolve to be an integrated, authentic person. If you choose to visit here be forewarned: it may get ugly, but it will always be true. If you want something light and fluffy, go read a Nancy Drew book. If you want way too much information about my personal life, sit down and stay a while. Sometimes I get a little crazy, but I always have a good story and hot coffee to share.
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2 comments:
HMMM.... Tirzah unplugged. Should we be scared? I guess you did warn us. This could get interesting. But I think it is healthy to not feel like you have to hide certain aspects of how you really live out your vocation. Its the story of what happened after the glass slipper fit. They always leave that part out of the movie.
We all have bad days like that. I know I do quite often, although I don't like to write about them in my blog. Maybe I should. Anyway, anytime you want to go to daily mass in the morning, give me a call and I'll come with you. Maybe that will motivate me to start doing it again.
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