Sunday, March 2, 2008

lost memories (thank goodness), and DCD

Saturday, March 01, 2008

lost memories (thank goodness), and DCD
Current mood: relieved

Whew.
Total. Chaos.
That was my evening.

But now the boys are all sleeping, the dogs are quiet inside, everyone is fed and watered, Dead Can Dance is playing softly, and my nice hot cup of tea is steeping here beside me.
Deep breath.

* * *

Amidst the chaos tonight, I had a special treat: Littleman thanked me for making him a delicious dinner. THAT was a pleasant surprise. Littleman is far, far more likely to take one look at anything I give him and whine, "But I don't waaaant that" or, "I don't like ___". (Though he'll usually eat fairly well, in spite of that). Even if he likes whatever I've given him, he'll simply eat it- compliments are unheard of. When he said that tonight, I remember glancing down at his bowl to be sure that he was, indeed eating the same food I'd prepared. Yup- simple buttered pasta (pirate-shaped, for fun) with fresh steamed broccoli florets and leftover roast on the side. I'd thrown it together as fast as humanly possible while Babyman screamed the whole time. Who knows why, but Littleman turned on the charm for me. It made me feel much better about the whole evening.

* * *

Have you ever noticed that women's clothing doesn't have pockets? I mean sure, most (but not all) women's jeans have pockets- but most other clothing items simply have no place to put anything. Men's clothes have pockets. Even men's pajama pants generally have pockets, while women's don't. WHY is this? Is it because pockets add bulk, thus disturbing our attempts to look as slim as possible? Is it because our clothes are fashionable rather than utilitarian? Is it simply assumed that we all carry purses? Really, what's up with this?

* * *

I feel like sometimes, I am hovering on the brink of insanity. Not literally, just in the sense that at any moment I might really blow my top and start screaming. It's SO hard, because my tension only helps escalate the general tone of my interactions with the boys, and their interactions with each other. We spiral out of control, and next thing I know one of them has hurt the other, or I am yelling, or somebody's crying. . . or more often, all of the above. Everybody needs my attention every minute, so there is ALWAYS someone who's feeling left out, ignored or upset. The best I can hope for is a temporary, uneasy compromise for peace. Or to have everyone sleeping!

But a silver lining occurred to me: right now, when things are hardest, the boys are all very young. They won't remember most of this. Even Littleman, who has an incredible memory, will probably forget most of the day-to-day insanity (I hope). By the time they get a little older and their vision of me is being imprinted in their long-term memories, I will be less stressed out and more myself. I think their memories will be of a much better person than I am now. And, that's a very good thing. :)

* * *

For tonight's thumbs-up, I went a-webhunting for something about Dead Can Dance. Found a bunch of stuff! But of course, youtube is where I got lost. Here's my selection for this post:



Good night.

1 comment:

Gypsy Guru said...

Oh, my... how is it that I deluded myself into worrying that I was the only mother who had ever experienced these feelings of woe, frustration, sorrow and remorse?!?! And I was pondering over the same subject this weekend to boot! Little Noodle's face just implores of me sometimes why I am grumpy when he's just being a little boy (i.e. wound tighter than a jackrabbit in a tornado). What's worse is when I'm helping him do something that normally frustrates me, but isn't on that particular occasion, and he puts his hand on my cheek and says, "You're not angry, Mommy?" Talk about a sad, sad Mommy!