The recipe-ish is officially on hold. I am back to being honest with myself, and the truth is that writing while I am in Indiana, 100% without a routine, it's just more difficult than I can handle. I'm on Pause.
(Side note: Please take a moment to listen to Pitbull's song Pause in my honor today.)
I had a rough day yesterday. A day filled with tears behind sunglasses and lingering moments in the bathroom while I sobbed. I was oh so very sad.
I tend to have days like this. I feel overwhelmed by what I have to do, what I can't do, what I am not doing well and it rests on me, presses on my very being, so much so that the only way to release a little pressure is through some tears.
Does everyone have days like that?
I have lost my van key. It's been gone since the first day and I'm sick of looking for it, sick of hearing my Father ask me if I've found it, and sick of thinking about paying for the overpriced replacement key with money we don't have. It's a tad frustrating to feel so irresponsible.
I have library books stacked at home that I meant to return before I left, but I just didn't. Then I thought I asked Alex to do it while I was gone, but apparently we had some communication failure because that didn't happen.
The books have been sitting there and the emails from the library explaining my increasing fines might as well include a brief statement about how surprised they are that I can actually handle three children because I can't even get it together to return some freakin' books without paying the actual cost of the books in fines. And P.S. why can't you get your middle child to stop hiding in the damn pretend dog house and scream for you whenever you visit? Get it together lady.
The library actually might be on to something in the judgement of my inability to get it together because the last few days I haven't even been able to handle my kids. I know it's not going to surprise that many people, but Cole is wreaking me. Wreaking me.
Cole has decided that any time he is told "no" or he has to be in bed he is going to whine with the most annoying of sounds a child is capable of making. I have held my hand over his mouth more than a few times over the last few days in an attempt to prevent him from waking the entire house.
I find that when one of my children is behaving horribly at my parents' house, or anywhere other than home, there is an extra sting to it. It feels like my failure is on display, even though I realize that is crazy.
I feel judged though. I feel like my Mother is saying to everyone behind my back how she doesn't understand what is wrong with Cole or me because Kyle and I never acted like that.
(We also never left an area if she told us to stay, even if we were one. We never yelled at her or had problems with potty training. We did as we were told and we ate everything. We must have been amazing...or perhaps the message is that she was so amazing? Hmmmm, either way it's super helpful to hear in the middle of your child's worst moments.)
I feel like I don't really blame my entire family for thinking that Cole's tantrums are beyond annoying, but I also feel frustrated that anyone is thinking anything not so great about my kid. It doesn't matter whether or not I agree, because it feels like everyone must be also thinking not so great things about me.
My brother and my sister-in-law are amazingly patient and supportive in helping me with the kids, even Cole, but I would be lying if I said I don't feel embarrassed when Cole starts into one of his moods. Did I just call the most annoying thing on Earth a "mood?" See, I'm disillusioned, I'm getting "used" to it. It's a state of horrific behavior, it's no mood.
After a hellish trip to the Children's Museum with him yesterday where he peed his pants in the Diego exhibit and screamed bloody murder when I informed him there was no way we were going to see the dinosaur exhibit....again. He even woke me up from a nap to whine and complain about his desperation for chocolate and vanilla bunny crackers.
(This was an unforgivable offense. I'm confident I am going to hang on to at least a little bit of anger about this for the next 10-12 years.)
While trying to get ready to go out with my girlfriends for dinner last night Cole decided he was going to melt into his tantrum and whining mode just before I left. It was more than I could bear.
I wrestled him into a bath, pajamas, and informed him there would be no stories due to his behavior. He thrashed and yelled at me about his hatred of me, something fun he picked up from his big brother. He wouldn't talk, only screamed or made some sort of whining combination of the words mama and dada.
Can I blame this on his being a middle child? He is seriously jacked up right now.
I actually told him that I couldn't talk to him because all I wanted to do was slap him due to my anger. Yikes. That is some solid parenting. I wish I scrapbooked and could make a page about this entire episode. I think I'd use orange paper and try to find some cool stickers depicting full blown rage. It'd be nice for him to look back on and remember.
What is wrong with me?
When he asked me to sing to him as he went to bed I informed him I needed a 10 minute cool down period before I could do that. I felt so very adult and responsible in trying to give myself some time to step away before I was more angry toward him. I felt a slightly renewed belief that I might not need CPS to stop by to protect him from me.
When I finally was able to calm down and returned to sing Cole the one short song I had promised, I sang him Rock a Bye Baby. I was feeling better, regrouped and encouraged at how calmly Cole was lying in the bed....until he interrupted the song to say, "I hate this song."
Yep, I was done. Just left.
And that's how I ended up like this exactly 40 minutes later.
|I had two of these Razzamatazz martinis, a rum and coke and a Baileys.|
It was such a good relief, mostly because I was with these amazing ladies, who never add to my feelings of inadequacy, irresponsibility and poor parenting. I so very needed a little time out for myself with some women that I love.
I cried the entire car ride on the way to see them, and then didn't stop smiling once I was with them.