Never Enough and Sometimes Too Much
Yesterday, in a somewhat spontaneous and blatantly miraculous arrangement, four women were able to take a breather (it felt more like 'in the blink of an eye') from reality, enjoying a few hours by the sea. I was a fortunate one of those four.
Did I have a fun time with three outstanding women? Sure did!
Was I appreciative of the fact that I was able- with the generosity of my mother and husband-to break away from routine? Absolutely!
Did I come back feeling refreshed and renewed, ready to tackle mothering my little tribe?
Not so much.
You see, and perhaps it's just me, but these sporadic breathers never seem like 'enough'. I come back and am immediately confronted with all the little (loud) needs I had left just a few hours before and as I feel myself pushed off the side of the pool back into the waters of responsibility, I almost doubt that I was ever actually "away" at all. Was it all just a big dream? Hallucination? Figment of my overactive imagination?
I want to be grateful. And I am. Yet it cannot be denied: It never feels enough. I don't know if I am expecting to squeeze the effects of a two week stay at a luxury resort and spa within a ten hour period and even if i had that, would I come back feeling restored? It is an experiment I am willing to try.
In sorting through these thoughts of 'never enough', a quote I read recently came to mind:
When tempted to feel as though it wasn't enough, I am going to be thankful and treasure the 'small harbors'. If it takes a bit for my 'vessel of thought' to dock on that thought, than so be it. But it does need to dock there, or it will drift into the murky waters of discontent, where the current is dreadfully, unproductively stagnant.
***
Last evening when I came home, you would have thought I just been released from a decade-long captivity in Bolvickastan. They were so happy to see me. It warmed my heart.
I walked in and kissed their father, and thanked him for watching the twins (he was able to work from home yesterday, and my mom usually watches the three oldest on Wednesdays, so they were with her-THANK YOU, mom!). I asked how they did and OF COURSE they were "perfect little guys who played happily while I got tons of work done!"...and "what a TREAT to be with them!". I assured him that I was "happy" they were so good for him. And I really was. But then he adds that they laid down for their naps and within five minutes were sound asleep. "Wait. You're telling me that they were ASLEEP within FIVE minutes of putting them down???". "Yep. And on opposite sides of the bed".
That was just too much.I had a difficult time swallowing the fact that the father of my children, in a brilliant opportunity to walk a day in my steps (minus three children), skipped out on 2,458 of them in avoiding the 200 trips up and down the stairs checking on the boys and putting them BACK in their beds for naptime. He had a "one trip nap lay-down" kinda day...one that I have never experienced. I know I should have been happy for him.
But I was kinda ticked. Drop the 'kinda'.
***
This day started out with early morning thunderstorms and all the typical early morning risers. Even though I wish it weren't so early, I still greet each child with the reception not unlike that of an adored member of royalty. My mom always seemed so happy to see me in the mornings, and I want to project that to each of my children too. It starts the day off right, at least. It's a good thing I got that in there, for the morning just went downhill from there. It was if the twins has used up all their 'perfect behavior' energy for dad and had absolutely nothing left for mom. At approximately 10am, when I was wondering if the sunny, sandy day before had been a mirage, I found myself with four of the five children surrounding me, throwing loud hissy fits and temper tantrums over absolutely NOTHING AT ALL. I think of the day before when they acted like little angels for their father and my mother, and I think of all the times when their father can simply look at them and they shut up quickly. And as these inequities of respect are flashing through my mind, I feel this deep, loud, guttural voice forming from the tips of my toes, snowballing in fury as it rushes UP my body and out of my mouth. "JUST SHUT UP!!!!". In my explosion, I say this not only once, but five times in a fiery, but very non-physical, explosion. My voice was so terse and unreserved, it would have made Michelle Duggar's Voice Coach toes curl.
Now, to some "Shut up" is the least of their language offenses.
At our home, it is a phrase we do not employ. Or rather, did not employ.Today, I used it and I used it BIG TIME.I left them in shock and hearing crickets chirp in the immediate aftermath of my explosion, i walked out into the kitchen, feeling oddly lighter.
I waited and waited for the feeling of conviction to set in. Moments that grew into half hours and then several hours ticked by...nary a tinge of guilt was felt. It's not that I haven't done wrong by my children and had to apologize before. I have! Today, however, had a feeling of "It was about time" to it. When parenting a clan of closely aged children whose wills and wants can (and do) join forces at any moment in time, there comes a moment in time (and only a select few) when employing the "shock and awe" method (always in a non-physical way) is not only not a bad idea, but perhaps, I humbly suggest, a good one.
I do not believe that yelling and dictatorship is a healthy style of parenting. Please do not misread what I am suggesting. I do not want my children to be afraid of me, but I DO want them to have a healthy fear (read "Respect") of my authority in their lives. A healthy fear that is built upon their first understanding that they are loved and accepted unconditionally by their mom. Such an outburst as I put forth today is NOT a solution to my children's behavior. It is not an act I will use to get them to behave. There are heart issues. There are nap issues. There are 'it's almost lunchtime' issues. And there is the fact that they are little sinners, like their mother is a big one. Like I said earlier, I am a believer in apologizing to my children if they have been wronged.
Yet, in today's case, I do not feel the need to apologize. It felt as though it would be counter productive to what had been taken from it.
After I spoke, I was calm. I was not in tears, not in hysterics, not a mess that they felt they needed to put back together. Things got better from there on out.
Perhaps they had received the message that 'mama isn't going to stand for this behavior'.
And why should I apologize for that?
Today's experience had me recalling the time when, after one of my teenage outbursts at my dear mother that left her in tears, I could FEEL my father coming down the hallway. He is normally the most even-keeled man you could want to meet. But he was enraged. At me. The earth shook as he got right in my face, stuck his pointer finger at me and said in a measured voice full of fury he stated: "You will NEVER talk to my woman like that EVER again. AM. I. CLEAR?".
Oh. Yes. Crystal-clear. I felt oddly detached from my birth parents at that moment, like I had been pushed outside of a sacred circle. I had heard his rage. It was disarming, but in retrospect, it was GOOD. It put me in my place, which was behind my mother, giving her the respect she deserved. It didn't happen often AT ALL, which made it's occurrence that much more impacting. I want to be sensitive here to the dear friends of mine who grew up under the horrible verbal abuse by the mouths of their mom and/or dad...an outburst such as one I had today would take them to a bad place, and therefore would hold a much worse effect on them, even if not so much their own children.
Today's experience had me recalling the time when, after one of my teenage outbursts at my dear mother that left her in tears, I could FEEL my father coming down the hallway. He is normally the most even-keeled man you could want to meet. But he was enraged. At me. The earth shook as he got right in my face, stuck his pointer finger at me and said in a measured voice full of fury he stated: "You will NEVER talk to my woman like that EVER again. AM. I. CLEAR?".
Oh. Yes. Crystal-clear. I felt oddly detached from my birth parents at that moment, like I had been pushed outside of a sacred circle. I had heard his rage. It was disarming, but in retrospect, it was GOOD. It put me in my place, which was behind my mother, giving her the respect she deserved. It didn't happen often AT ALL, which made it's occurrence that much more impacting. I want to be sensitive here to the dear friends of mine who grew up under the horrible verbal abuse by the mouths of their mom and/or dad...an outburst such as one I had today would take them to a bad place, and therefore would hold a much worse effect on them, even if not so much their own children.
***
Gee whiz, I have turned into a mommy blogger. Ewww...not what I intended.
I have so much to learn, about EVERYthing. I am not writing this as a thesis for my parenting style, but as a journal..sorting out thoughts over naptime, which is presently now over. We are going out for a fun drive through the rainy country side and see how many cows we can count while listening to oldies music. We'll turn this day around yet!
Peace-out,
A Woman Whose Only Human and Is Very Thankful For The Grace of God!!!!
Comments