Sunday, December 7, 2014

Is that Happiness I Feel?

I wasn't sure where I was going to go with this post-- as I have been in a damn reflective mood lately.  But last night I found the perfect way to frame up what is going in my head.

I struggle with parenting- yell too much, count to three more times than is ever effective, and feel late no matter what I am trying to get done.  Yet,  it's oddly rewarding. And funny.

I have a hard time articulating what it is exactly that makes me love this job- especially when so much of it is just plain fucking hard.  I often feel like a foreigner in someone else's land-- crossing borders that I judged in the past- such as apologizing for the stickiness of the counter or the naked kids getting ready for bath time.  Don't mind Deirdre- that's just poop on her nose. It'll be gone soon... we're taking showers.*

The weird blend of pain and suffering and joy seems to be the normal dichotomy in my life.  As a self-proclaimed moderation-hater, I seem to enjoy life best when it's lived in the extremes.  Extremes of parenting are hard to really explain even to myself.  I seem to jump back and forth between the joy /frustration threshold minute by minute  As I have transitioned from career gal to SAHM to somewhere in-between this identity and confusion has really left me pensive.  Is this the greatest job ever? I've been told so- but man it's hard.

And then this happened--
Go Get Those Horcruxes, Bud.




This is James who thinks I can't see him underneath his cloak of invisibility.

I often spend much of the hours between 7-10 escorting children to bed.  We've been struggling with bed time and some night time phone thieves, milk capers and non-essential pee-ers.  In effort to claim my evening, I decided to take a bath with the door open so they would have to pass the door if they were out of bed.  

Cymbals clang, lightbulbs pop and the thunder clapped-- that's it.  That is frustration, lack of sleep, counting to three, time outs and joy all in one little boy.

I called out to James-- and he continued to creep past the door, careful not to make any noise.  Those floor boards are a death trap.  After he safely made it back to his room with a phone (I presume). I continued to call to him and he popped on over as if nothing had ever happened.  That's right, the blanket WORKS. 

Yep, I think that is happiness.

It's pretty fucking awesome.**



* " "Tonight.  We are big into changing our own diaper lately.  Which works, you know. . . most of the time. Until it REALLY doesn't.
**As I write this post with a baby in my lap- a glass of wine in sight and spaghetti stuck to the wall next me. 

1 comment:

  1. Strange, I lived your life for what seemed like years. Then-----I jumped right back in with the grandkids---joyfully, I might add---now we seem to have "adopted" Ruth and Jerry Casper's kids as another set of grands!!! So, if you ever thought of this years long friendship having been with someone normal---that wouldn't be me!!l Love you lots!

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