Remember yesterday when I said I was going to spend the next two days throwing out Mommy questions to you awesome people in the blog-o-sphere? Well never mind. Yesterday’s answers to my tweenager dilemma were FABULOUS. I think Sam and I are going to get a cheap-o cell phone for a “family phone” and then wait to get Hope her own phone. When she does have her own phone she will have a privilege contract to sign. Excellent advice.
Today I was going to ask a breastfeeding/separation anxiety/teething question about Atticus. But this morning, at 5:30am, I was cuddled on couch with Atticus under the glow of the Christmas tree and nursing him and suddenly I didn’t really care about asking questions. I was so wonderfully happy and peaceful. Now I don’t need to ask any questions or worry that his weaning is set back. He’ll quit when he’s ready and I’m okay with that.
Right now my family life is saving me from absolute insanity. Sam is kind, gentle, and cracks me up. Hope brings silliness and adventure. Atticus is my teddy bear. Sure, the house is a mess most days and things can be rambunctious, but I love it. All the negativity and stress in my life is coming from outside sources and I need it to stop NOW.
In the past month I have been involved in no less than three intense and hurtful situations that somehow involve friends in some capacity. All three situations have called for me to take a stand, motivate myself to action, and put myself in an uncomfortable position. I won’t go into details here on the situations, but I will say that I keep trying to do the Right Thing and I feel like I fuck it up. Also, being from a smallish town means that no situation is isolated so there are ramifications reverberating in many different areas. These situations all have such elements of meanness. I’ve been called a bitch, I’ve been told I’m ignorant, and one situation is too awful and new to even discuss. To top it off this is the end of the semester and everyone is frenzied, I’m piled with work to finish and I’ve no motivation, and every time I leave my house I encounter at least one Christmas-shopping crazed asshole. The result is that I’m turning into a bitch.
My mom told me when I was about Hope’s age that I was “too-tenderhearted.” I have a lot of love to give and I would do anything for a friend or for someone who’s cause has merit in my eyes. I open myself up because I want to help people. Okay, I have a dark sense of humor and can be sarcastic, but that is just the hard-candy coating; deep down I’m all marshmallow fluff. All of this hate is hardening me: I snap at Hope, I’m cussing a ridiculous amount, when someone asks me how I am all I can think of to say involves bitching and moaning.
What do I do? I’m hurt, stressed, concerned, worried, and preoccupied. I’m resisting the urge to go into hermit mode. I keep doing my own little version of this song. I’m constantly thinking of awesome things I love: husband, babies, cat, flannel pjs, pots of tea, Barbara Pym, rolling cookie dough, soup, soft teal yarn, tiny stitches, glittered wrapping paper, crisp days, blankets, chocolate, new books, pumpkin lattes, the feeling of pen on paper, etc…. all the good, tangible things that help sooth and distract from the awfulness going on in my life.
Okay, I think blogging — or more like ranting — should make the list as well. I always feel better after venting on Ye Olde Blog.
So thank you, for listening to my babbling. It helps. Hug, hug, smooch, smooch.