April 30, 2008 by Marj Hatzell
Yeah, I have them, too. Few and far between, but even this well-composed momma has her moments (Stop laughing. STOP IT! I AM COMPOSED!). I guess you could say that when things get all out of whack and build up and start to make me feel like drowning, I freak out. Just a little. Ok, fine, a lot. Alright, it was a total freak-out of epic proportions. Screaming, crying, slamming, breaking things (to be fair, he broke the plate slamming it into the dishwasher). It was not pretty. But since we haven’t had an argument in, oh, a year? Nine months? I mean, a real argument. Not just bickering. Bickering is for wimps. It’s been a while.
We both had very valid points. He’s working twelve hours or more a day. I’m getting no help at home. Bugaboo has been stressing us out because he won’t go to sleep without one of us, which means we get no alone time (read: SNUGGLE time. Ahem. Wink, wink.) at all. I contacted The Best Babysitter In the World, so hopefully she is available this weekend. I think things are just coming to a head.
Darling doesn’t think Bugaboo is making much progress. I was quick to point out every little thing he is doing. I tend to look at the positives, Darling tends to try to solve and fix everything. The thing is, this is one HUGE thing that neither of us knows how to fix. Not that he NEEDS fixing, really. It just sure would be nice to hear that child speak. Something besides, “Uh oh!” thirty times in a row. Something besides him signing “more” repeatedly when he isn’t getting his way and he is super-frustrated. Although sometimes I wonder if we’re asking for it because we could get another Rainman Bug Boy. Incessant chatter, endless streams of one-sided conversation and non-stop comments on the world around him. Plus, I’m fairly certain that since his mother is a potty-mouth, that Bugaboo’s first word may be f*cker or sh*t. Although, it would be nice to hear that, too. I could put him on M.t.v or Yootoob and make lots of money.
I keep thinking I can handle this. It’s old hat! It’s normal for us! It’s just the way things are! I’m not in control, G-d is! I’m just doing my job! I do believe all of those things. It’s just that sometimes, well, sometimes I just get weary. I just don’t want to do this anymore. I just want to stay in bed with the covers up over my head and forget about the world for a week. Or a day. I’ll take anything. Thing is, our anniversary is still six months off, so no weekend without the Baby Bugs until then. Then there is the whole matter of over-extending myself. I tend to volunteer for everything because I am a card-carrying member of the Too-Stupid-To-Say-No-Club. Wanna know why I do that? DO ya? It’s because I get to SOCIALIZE. I GET TO MAKE FRIENDS. That’s right, I volunteer my time for a social outlet, because I HAVE NO LIFE. And neither does my husband. But he’d on volunteer to cut people’s grass or fix their plumbing because it’s all he wants to do. And since my sister just bought her very own house? He may get that chance. PROJECTS FOR THE HUSBAND! w00t!
I could not fall asleep last night and spend a few hours staring at the shadows on the wall and taking stock of everything that is going on in my life. What I realized is this: I do not take care of myself. The first thing to go when life gets hectic and our schedules go out of control is ME. My sleep. My exercise. My eating habits. It all goes out the window. If I am not exercising regularly it ain’t pretty because exercise is my stress-reliever. Just like the kids climb the walls on a day with indoor recess (INDOOR RECESS, I ABHOR THEE!) I climb the walls when I can’t sweat out my problems. When I don’t exercise, I crave crappy food. And when I eat crappy food, I am sleepy and sluggish and feel bad about myself. Which makes me wanna stay in bed. Which means i don’t get exercise and so I begin to crave crappy food…
See where this is going? It’s very simple, really. I mean, it doesn’t take a genius to figure this out. IF MOMMA AIN’T HAPPY, AIN’T NOBODY HAPPY. I know this. I believe this. It’s my job to hold us together. And the past two weeks? The glue is undone, folks. The kids are cranky, we are cranky, we’re all not getting along. So, after the date this weekend? We’re doing something family-oriented. Something we can all do together. Like go to IKEA.
You think I’m kidding? We seriously go to IKEA for fun. FUN! We walk around and comment on stuff and the kids try out the furniture and we eat swedish meatballs and life is all hunky-dorry again. Really! Bugaboo even cries when we leave IKEA, just as Darling cries when we arrive. After spending a lifetime on their white-foil-finish trundle bed, he just cannot bring himself to put together another BAKLA or SERNA with one of those little octagonal wrenches. So I do it.
First thing I did this morning after the kids were on the bus was to don a sports bra (yes, Even my teeny girls need the support) and take the Shad Roe for a jog. It was heavenly. Just the doggie and me, jogging slowly around the neighborhood, breathing in spring, soaking in the blue sky and purty flowers. And then the borough fire alarm went off. Then the next borough’s fire alarm went off. And then Shad Roe stood on her hind legs and howled for five freaking minutes and nothing I was gonna do was gonna stop her. Sheesh. Now I’m home, feeling refreshed and ready to conquer the world again.
It’s amazing that sometimes you just need to crash a little in order to get back on the horse and ride tall again, eh?