On the eve of my 29th birthday, I am pausing to reflect.
Actually, I'm just buzzing from 2 late night cups of strong coffee, and in the silence of the 11th hour I am taking an opportunity to sit and listen to myself think.
It's not easy, finding stillness, with three kids three and under, and the energy of spring filling their young lungs. 'Antsy" doesn't even begin to describe the pent up energy I had to deal with today.
I use to love having a March birthday because it meant spring.
Now spring means snow/sleet/rain/mud/wild things, in one giant hodgepodge pool of energy.
And I am tired. I wake up to bellows. Full scale stampedes happening down the hallway. Babies/toddlers/adults (possibly me) just yelling. It's madness. The moments of quiet are my moments of guilt, because it means I have resorted to berenstain bears, or worse, super silly songs. But for goodness sake, at some point, a woman needs to put her bra on in peace and take a morning pee.
Today was a day when the volume reached epic heights, and my patience was at its all time low.
The put together family photo on the mantle really masks the monsters we can become. When the baby jolts awake on repeat for 4 hours because any quiet moment is snatched away with warrior cries or blocks hitting the wall...my inner monster stirs.
And then when I spin my wheels trying to clean, discipline, eat, feed, change, and maintain and contain the madness, aka. the kids, I give in. Monster.
Sometimes I just get sick of hearing myself say NO. Of course, I have to say it, but it gets so tiring.
"No, you can't eat three bananas"
"No, you have to wear pants"
"No, you can't run around naked"
"No, you can't go to grandmas"
"No, I'm not going to spoon feed you"
"No, you can't throw your blocks at the wall...or at your sister... "
"No, you can't wrap that string around your neck"
"NO, you can't use your hand.. you have to use toilet paper!"
"No, you can't take the fish out!"
.. and then I catch myself and think.. do I really have to say this? Shouldn't they know the answer is NO!?
But they don't. They really think that these things, no matter how ludicrous, are within the realm of possibility. And then I wonder what I signed up for in this mind numbing job of motherhood.
The fact that I did, about an era ago, go to University and graduate with honours, means absolutely nothing.I am about as sharp as a sweet potato- casting about the house with wild eyes wondering when the house exploded and how come I heard nothing? Then realizing I've been hearing low grade bombing all day, starting with the first bellow from the bathroom when someones butt needed wiping, and so it's no wonder I didn't actually hear the house explode.
And in my sweet potato state, I lose perspective. I say equally ludicrous things, like when my husband asks if I'd like anything, and I respond "I'd like to be a vapour." And when he responds that he can't make that happen, I snap "Arent' you a scientist? Just figure it out!". Of course the vapour thing is a bit extreme, but the essence of the request is simply that I can find somewhere to just get lost for a bit. To recover myself. To hear myself.
I ended up sliding under the table at supper time, only to see Anneliese poke her head under the table and say "hi mom".
So, today was a marathon. The kids were an extra handful and I couldn't find that other hand. But I got through it. I even have a quiet hour to sit, write, and exaggerate my woes to the world. But with the quiet comes perspective. Some deliberate thinking over the past day, the past time. Tomorrow I'll be 29- on the brink of the next decade, and it's a little daunting. I suppose I am mostly daunted these days by the endless cycles of monotony that motherhood brings. But then when I really think about it, during these blissfully quiet hours of the night, I am daunted by what I'll do when they're behind me. Because God knows I love those little monsters :)
