Tuesday, February 12, 2002
Icky Blue Fuzzies
No matter what I do, I can’t seem to shake this funk I’ve been in. While I realize it’s “that time of year,“ this seems to go deeper than just that. Or maybe not. It’s not as bad as in previous years, at least I’m not thinking about “him” and stressing myself into a tizz over the jerk. Still… I feel lost and lonely, irritable and mad, apathetically blind to the world around me. My body hurts, but my head and heart are numb, for the most part. I dunno. I’m just not right.
Sometimes when I get like this, the smallest things will put me back on track. An afternoon reading in the sunshine may perk me up, or a hand full of jelly beans, or sometimes just a good giggle with friends. Other times, like recently, the mood drags on and on and nothing anyone says or does makes life worth living. There are several people who have written me email—I owe them at least a response. I’ve avoided it because I have nothing to say for better or worse. There are things I really should get done, but it’s like wading through sludge trying to just accomplish my regular daily routines. Sleep doesn’t come easy, and when it comes, I have disturbing and restless dreams. Even my usual escape, the Internet, seems bland and dead to me.
Tonight we went out to dinner. It was a mini celebration in honor of Sebastian’s birthday, even though his birthday isn’t until the thirteenth. He was thrilled to have them sing to him, and he got a cool sombrero. When the weird folks were done singing to him, I held him and almost cried. Maybe it was the margarita. Or maybe I just can’t believe that my tiny little man is going to be five. Soon, he’ll be like Devon. He won’t want to cuddle with me or hold my hand. He’ll close up and shut down and no longer will I be the light and love of his life. Sons give mothers such unconditional love… it’s no wonder we mommies cling to them so desperately.
So far, I’ve done well letting go of Devon with each passing year… just a little, but enough that he can grow into his own person without being smothered. I’ve tried doing the same for Sebastian, as well, but it’s harder. In some ways, Sebastian and I have never bonded the way that Devon and I have. In some ways, I’ve had to hold tighter to Sebastian because of “him” and his meddling ways. In holding so much tighter to him, I’ve actually created a sort of rift between us that I don’t think will ever be bridged. He’s never truly been mine, though I can’t really say who he does belong to… himself, I suppose. That breaks my heart to admit that, but there is truth to it, no matter how I would like to deny it. *sigh*
Who knew motherhood could be so complicated?
I recently joined (and left) a list where there were various discussions about parenting and children. It’s funny because many of those women are first time moms (or not moms at all) and they have such lofty ideals of what motherhood is. They’ve made simple decisions into causes, and frankly, in two or three years time, most of that shit doesn’t matter at all. Those “causes” will seem as trivial as nose blowing technique and if those women chose to have more kids, their entire worlds will change once more, not to mention their perspective.
It was funny to read of how a mother of an infant insisted she will never let her kid cry because it’s just plain cruel and unkind. I can promise without hesitation that she will let her child cry at some point. Crying is as natural as laughing and just as necessary. Crying is the rain that cleanses the soul. Besides, what are you going to do when your two-year-old insists on getting candy in the grocery store check out line? Say yes every time just to avoid what very well may be a bout of tears? It won’t work. Trust me. Kids will cry even when you give them what they want. They get frustrated and crying is their way of working it through. Children need to learn to work things through themselves. But really… even all that will seem unimportant in ten years time, or in fifteen years.
Never will I claim to be the best parent in the world. Nor will I proclaim my parenting as the best methods. I make as many mistakes as the mother who won’t let her child cry, or the father who places the world on his son’s shoulders, or the mother who lives vicariously through her daughter. My mistakes are mine, though, and I’ll live with the consequences as best as I can, as will the other parents. We all screw our kids up in one way or another… we are all human, as are our children. Frankly, I’m glad of that. Even in this funk I’m facing, it’s good to acknowledge the pain and frustration, the disappointment and loss as much as the joys and accomplishments, laughter and fun.
Posted under:
In Other Years:
Yes We Can (2008)
Politics don’t grab me. It’s not that I don’t care, I care too much and the hopelessness of the political…[Read More]
Happy Birthday, Grandma (2000)
Dear Grandma,
Well, Happy Birthday! I’m sending along some photos of Dan, Devon Sebastian and myself. Some are from as…[Read More]
Comments
A Psych Major at 02/12/02 07:59 PM
I’m counting on insecure young parents to provide those precious therapist moments and finance my retirement. Please watch how much wisdom you dispense.
stasi at 02/16/02 02:01 PM
There is a difference between making a 2 month old cry alone in his crib, which is what we were discussing on the list, and letting a 2 year old cry because she can’t have candy. I am quite sure that nobody got the two mixed up, except maybe you.
And part of parenting, the best part, probably, is experimenting, trying what works and doesn’t, while incorporating your own values and beliefs and standing by them. And, in my opinion,that’s what all the women on the list do. Congratulations on having been in the trenches longer than some of us. It makes you wiser, but it certainly does not make us guilty by way of “lofty ideals.“ Ideals turned into reality are the makings of a good parent, in my opinion.
Robert at 12/01/02 07:45 PM
I see there are some people in this world that can do nothing but spew their hate around to try to bring others down.
Rebecca at 02/12/02 10:56 AM
I wish I could say something to make your world all better but I am not good at that kind of stuff. I do know about feeling down in the dumps and as anyone knows it suck hairy donkey balls. I hope things get better for you.