all of me.

Friday, April 15, 2011

on this blustery, cold, fall-like MN evening,
despite the little taste of sunshine and 70-degree weather earlier in the week,
green grass and crocus buds poking from the ground,
i'm hunkered down,
fall-like.
in serious need of. . .
something.  warmth.
spunk.
not to mention,
a haircut.
a tan.
a boat-load of patience.
a flat stomach and a cup size ANY where above training-bra would be sweet.
MOST importantly, a new routine. 
do you ever get in to those funks?
i get in to big, fat funks.  usually at the change of seasons.
or coming off a vacation.
where you just get stuck.
or like right now,
after long weeks of crappy eating, no exercise, no creativity, no routine, no consistency.
that doesn't work for me.
and leaves me yearning for. . .something.
but it's hard to name it.  hold it down with your finger.
a vacation?  maybe.  an ENTIRE day of rest?  
yes, that'd be awesome.
more sunshine?  that too.
maybe just a slap across the face!  
a 'WAKE UP!'  you always have a choice to WAKE UP!'
easier said then done though.
it's easy to get stuck.
for me at this moment,
stuck between the urge to run,
literally.  
putting on my running shoes, shoving headphones in my ears and taking off out past the comfort of my bubble for some quiet and respite from the daily duties and permanent obligations of motherhood.
however, the mere THOUGHT of that makes my knees ache and my body hate me.
and instead, am lured to the other end of the spectrum.
not to run, but to sit.
stuck to the couch cushions and sucked in,
like old change and stale cheerios.
wedged in until someone comes to clean you up.
but stuck under a blanket.  with a book.  a piece of chocolate cake.  QUIET.
the only sound, the wind slapping our old window panes.
the drip, drip of our old tub faucet.
especially on minnesota nights like this,
nights this laziness was made for.
the feelings always pass.  
but of course, when i'm in the midst of it,
i'm not a fun person to be around.
i'm crabby.  irritable.  easily annoyed.  filled with rage one minute,
then filled with tears of sadness or guilt the next.
(sounds like PMS, huh?)  maybe that's all it is.
but i'll be the first to admit, i'm a HORRIBLE mother during these weird days.
i have ZERO patience. 
no interest in entertaining, playing, can't stand the constant chatter,
whining, screaming, fighting.
i have a fuse that lights within seconds.
i'm mean and loud and although i'll try to fight through it,
usually fail miserably, and everyone ends up in tears.
i watch other mothers,
who seem to be doing it flawlessly,
filled with so much more love and patience and kindness.
and wonder how and why and what am i doing wrong.
basically, i just want to be, NEED to be left alone, when i get like this.
to recharge before we reconvene.  
to assess the damage and re-prioritize and take a different approach.
but often impossible when your day is spent at home.  being a mom.
where there is little to no time to think or strategize successfully. 
without interruption.
so i do my best to float through these days and moments of weirdness and agitation.
finding refuge in the outdoors, sunshine, chocolate and laziness.
but i don't like it.
i feel like i'm on the inside of something ugly but too far gone to crawl out.
so the nastiness continues, out of habit.
which isn't fair to anyone around me.  my kids especially.
because they're doing their best too.
i have dinners occasionally with a very special friend.
where our conversations always leave me thinking and questioning the way i do things.
like right now.
and i remember we were once talking about raising our then, 3-year-olds.  
how challenging it is.  was.  is.  painstaking.  how we can love them so much,
but find it so hard to like them or be around them some days.
she said, 'but imagine if that were us.  this little person.  with this big, scary, person,
screaming at them for everything they do wrong.  
spilling their snacks for the umpteenth time,
their juice,
hitting their brother, pushing their sister, you name it.
how not only terrifying but exhausting that would be.'
to always have someone jumping on your every move, 
the hot and cold they get, from the person who's supposed to love them most.
giving them hugs one minute, screaming the next.
that night, like i do many nights, i crawl in to bed, carrying the guilt of the day,
to snuggle next to my angel(s), who are learning too.
who try so hard and ultimately, like my wise friend said, 
just need YOU.  just need SOMETHING.  they just can't tell us what.
just like we can't always express or ask for what we need.
and sometimes just a hug or acknowlegdement can pull us.  them.  from the depths of their frustration.
i've never forgotten that conversation.
and those words pop in to my head, 
usually after the long, more challenging weeks,
when no one seems to be happy, behaving, listening or feeling loved and appreciated.
and she said, 'you shouldn't be going to bed every night feeling guilty.  feeling like you need to apologize.  feeling like you have to win them back after a day of pushing them away.' 
(ok.  those weren't her exact words.  but that's what i heard.)
so why does it take a scary diagnosis? 
a rough week?
a close call?
to pull us out of our comfort zone?  to slap us awake?  to help us break our bad habits, behaviors.
and another thought.
that my blog might be giving people the wrong impression of me.
seeing as i'm kind of all over the board,
that my writing is moody, like me.
some of my most recent writings (well, until today,)
have been contemplative,
even positive!
thoughtful, poetic?
well, those that know me in 'real life,'
most specifically my husband,
KNOW i'm not all sunshine and flowers,
rainbows and unicorn tears,
that most of what i write and what comes out of my head,
is a load of crap, when compared to how i actually act.
i vent, complain, use VULGAR language, judge, critique, gossip.
my husband and a handful of close friends, who know me best,
know i'm kind of a bi***.
snotty, sarcastic, judgmental, 
i roll eyes, yell, squeeze little wrists too hard and am not afraid to smack little butt cheeks if i've had enough,
and have out-of-nowhere emotional outbursts.
i like to say 'suck it.'  a lot.
although i like to promote homeopathic remedies and proclaim to only buy organic,
i binge on chocolate chip cookies.  the naughty ones.
i take the kids to mcdonald's.  too much. 
my husband laughs at some of my posts, the image of myself i portray some days, 
when his arrival home, is greeted with anything BUT warm and fuzzy and welcoming hugs and kisses.
as i've stated, i'm no angel.
i'm human.  an overwhelmed mother.  who has VERY little patience and tolerance, 
most days.
so let me tell you something, you reader, you:)
if you don't know me well,
this blog is, well, like it is for most people,
a journal.
a SMALL reflection of me on any given day.
and the mood i'm in.
all honest and truth-filled.
and consistently inconsistent.

but a place to hopefully, poetically,
record my thoughts and feelings, beliefs for the moment,
priceless moments captured.
whether i practice them or follow through with them or not.
a place where i try to inspire MYSELF to be the better self i want to be
where i TRY.
where i try to filter and organize the great things i hear and see 
and incorporate them in to my own way of living, somehow.
to be better than what i actually give or SHOW to others
and work to be as close to that person that i portray here.
it's hard.
but it's also therapeutic.
after i write a post and shut the top of my computer,
bringing finality to my thoughts,
i feel recharged or at the least, relaxed.
encouraged and inspired, to do better and be this person i talk about and write about.
to continue to do my best at living in the moment, no matter where my head is at.
if there's anything i DON'T want to be, it's a hypocrit.
or a liar.
but as i often write and display in my posts,
i honor being real, authentic, who i am and who YOU are,
all the imperfections and weaknesses,
and DEFINITELY don't hide from them and am always the first to admit to them.
so, there you go.
me in all my raw-ness.
it's not pretty, but it's real.



0 comments:

Post a Comment