Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Something Right

Some changes at Kenneth's work have meant that he has been out town a lot more than usual.  Parenting alone is, for me, a death trap of shame. It brings out the worst in me because, well...


And then I turn into a monster. 

The neighbors heard me yelling at them at least five times yesterday. I looked like a crazy person, I know. And honestly, I feel crazy. And I hate it. 

I may, in fact, be the one and only woman on the face of the earth who is not naturally nurturing.  

And because no one listens to me do you knows what is going to happen?

The reading lists won't get fililed in,the homework won't get done (why the hell do they have homework at the end of the school year?), the piano won't get practiced (and Team Workman will miserably bomb the piano recital which will surprise no one), we will be late for school every day, no one will go to bed on time so no one will get enough sleep and everyone will be grumpy the next morning so there will be fighting and fighting and fighting and Oakley will run away from his class room and probably get kicked off the field trip and Ivys hair won't get done which is disgusting because it's been over a month and her braids are starting to turn into stinky dreadlocks and then I will be the clueless White Mom who has no business raising and African American child and I will forget to put sunscreen on Georgia who will burn to a crisp at the park and sprout seventy more freckles in the process which are cute, but which will give her skin cancer, and Eden will feel alone and neglected so she will push and push to stay up late and I will either yell her into submission of just cave and let her do whatever she wants which is a very unhealthy cycle and in the end I will just hate myself for all of it because none of this shows anyone how much I really love them.   And the house will be a mess. 

All the Brene Brown in the world can't save now. 

Perhaps the only answer is to start drinking wine. I hear it's like anti anxiety medication. 


But two weeks ago I did something right.

I was going to save it for a whole new post, but, in the end, I must.  I must.  I must take in the good with the bad.  I must remember that I am ying and yang, that there is lightness and dark.  It all goes together.  

So the ridiculous panic of this week will be entered on the same post as the peace of connecting with my oldest child. 

I followed a blip of inspiration and entered an art competition with Eden.  She seeps creative energy from every pore in her body and really wanted to do this contest, but she also really wanted me to do it (I think the magnitude of the thing was a little scary for her).  So I doodled up an entry and she created her masterpiece.   

Surprisingly, we both won the opportunity to paint our pieces onto large banners that will fly over Colfax for all to see. As intimidating and embarrassing as this was (because I am NOT an artist and have never painted a thing before in my life), it was actually super fun. 

We spent an en entire Saturday together painting our banners.   Painting, talking, working, sharing, creating, smiling. 

Maybe she will remember this one Saturday instead of this week.  

Or maybe she will remember them both and someday understand that  her Mom is made up of both good and bad and so is she and this is okay.

We are all just learning.  Right?

1 comment:

Sarah said...

I hate it when it feels like that, but you are definitely not alone. From all I can see, you are a great mom, the best you can be and that's enough for anyone. Cut yourself some slack!