Oh its been one of
those weeks. A hard week. My emotions all tangled, my mood hanging low like the
ears of a basset hound and my patience, not at its all time best. I rarely
write about these hard moments in the motherland and for that matter in the
land of marriage because ..hmmm well, I'm working on figuring out "the
because.” What I figure is that I must be embarrassed on some level. I also believe
some matters are sacred to be kept private inside the motherland. Boundaries I
should respect perhaps. The embarrassment piece though seems a little silly to
me, yet it’s a hard one to let go. I know intellectually that feeling embarrassed
over the natural development of my dear six-year old or my own cranky mood is
nonsense and that I am certainly not alone in my experiences but that doesn’t
make it less real.
I have talked to a
few friends in the motherland about what's happening in their six-year-old
world and we come up with the same stories of rising emotions and the emergence
of behaviors that are reminiscent of well three and one-half. Tears over what
seems like a little thing to us mothers but isn't to our girls. We come to the
conclusion that our girls are growing, changing, trying on behaviors like a new
pair of pants. They are exhausted after a busy, long day in first-grade.
Teachers have even prepared parents for a bounty of emotions in these first few
weeks of school.
My girl is delighted
with her new school, being a first-grader, meeting new friends, playing hard
and learning. This makes me feel hugely grateful. As far as emotions and
changing behaviors in these first few weeks, mostly what we have experienced is
a small meltdown just before dinner. She's tired after playing with friends or is
frustrated about having to stop playing and of course she is hungry. We usually
manage well by adding some food and water and a hug or two. And she rebounds.
This week her tired
manifested in the form of whine-redux. Let me say whining if prolonged can test
my patience significantly. For this reason, when whining starts, we work to nip
it in the bud. Immediately.
I start out patient,
kind and firm on the age-old no-whining policy in our home that let's be honest
has been broken one-thousand times over by any one of us. I say calmly "I
would love to listen to you when you use your big voice." I suggest kindly
she take a moment or ten to herself until she is ready to ask me for what she
wants without sounding like a bike chain in desperate need of oil. Oh I don't
know if that makes sense but I'm guessing you know what a whine sounds like.
Often my practice of calm works and I remain a peaceful parent. I like these
times.
Other times when I'm
not at my most patient or nourished well the calm can flee resulting in me
channeling my not so peaceful self. And
that sucks. I was yelled at as a kid by one of my dear parents. And I do mean
dear. I hated it. I swore up and down I would never yell at any child of mine.
Well, I have. And again. It sucks. I rarely yell. When I do, I step back and
apologize. I beat myself up and judge myself to no end . Productive isn't it?
Perhaps, another glimpse into why I don't often write about these harder
moments.
This week in the sea
of whines and valley of more meltdowns than we've had in recent months and the
pushing buttons in experimentation of what will mom do if I don’t stop doing
what she asked me to stop doing….resulted in my raising my voice ok yelling
softly one morning this week. I was worn
down, tired emotionally and frankly feeling compressed. The only way I can explain
compression is that my emotions felt pent-up and confined. I was doing
everything I could to keep myself together in order to try and parent well. I
was feeling cranky and irritated.
One reason, the Papa
in the house made a comment or two that I didn't like. The tone, the premise,
the timing. All wrong. I mean after I have prepared a beautiful meal, cleaned,
given him a day to himself to work on some house projects, and a night out with
friends; do you think I want to hear as he walks through the door his
complaining about my not returning the garbage can or recycling bag to their
proper home under the sink. I think what you meant to say dear husband is
"dinner smells great and thank you for giving me the night and day today
to do what I want." Unfortunately, I wasn't so clever and instead reacted
and got mad.
The mad turned to
irritation and impatience and preoccupation with his poor choice of words in the
moment. I cycled and spun out of inner control and outer too. I realize too the
other cycle I’m in is that I most assuredly am pms-ing. I can say that not my
husband. He may not blame my mood and irritation and all out bad mood this week
on my impending period. Only I have permission to do that because damn-it my
feelings are real.
In effort to counter
this travel into blue this week, I ran hard, took pictures, wrote, worked on my
business cards and lest I not forget showered. Yes showered. In the spirit of
putting my cards on the table, know that I'm not adverse to skipping a day in or
two in the shower or to wearing what same T-shirt I wore to bed the next day. I
do change my under layer. That I am fastidious about.The run helped so did the
shower some and changing my clothes.
Still by late
Thursday afternoon in the presence of soccer-mom friends, one small tear dribbled
out of the corner of my eye. Thank goodness for sunglasses. I was burnt from a
long week knowing that I must suck as a Mom surely. How could I raise my voice
in response to her umpteenth whine of the afternoon? Um because I am human and
I have my moments. One new mama friend reached her hand over mine and that’s
all it took to know I was not alone. We all have hard moments. Another old dear
friend hugged me and said "oh grrrl--in our way" that makes the other
laugh. Another mom reassuringly said "oh you are the fifth nor sixth mom
to talk about this same emotional windstorm this week in the world of
first-graders." She reminded me in her own words that our girls are in the
thick of developmental change. I listened and sat quiet for fear the lump in my
throat would open the floodgate of tears I’d already had once this week in the privacy of
my own run. And then somehow I found laughter with these good women. And with
that perspective.
Our day ended
beautifully actually. Being in the company of these good women and our kids
helped me climb out of my own head and like a said gain a little perspective.
For my girl, running and laughing and kicking the ball with her friends helped
her get untangled. She climbed into my lap at dinner and hugged me hard. I
squeezed her tight. All felt right. Moments come and go. They just do. I want
to remember to let them be. I don’t need to apply layers of self-analysis and judgment
but rather just sit with the hard stuff because it too shall pass.
These are big times
for my girl and for me as her mama watching her grow, letting go a little as
she learns her way. These are big days as I try and figure out my path. How
scary this can feel trusting in a new direction of which I’m not completely
sure.
My lesson as always:
breathe. A dear friend reminded me how when it feels hard, we women try to fix
it. Just let yourself feel it right now she said and let it be. Trust what you
know and walk towards it. Hard as that is sometimes.
There, I share a little
more live from the Motherland. Thanks for tuning in.
