The Lost Decades of My Life

Tonight as I reflected on a conversation I had today with my friend (and fellow den leader) Anna, I joked with Paul that I’m going to die very young. He replied “you’ll be fine” which is missing the point entirely of my search for support or validation. He can’t help me from his hotel room in El Paso, he couldn’t help me if he were here anyway because he needs to sleep so he can work and keep us alive and all that. The least he could do is provide a little sympathy. Is an echo chamber too much to ask?

Anna had been chiding me for not taking more control of sleep, basically. I tossed it off and said that none of my babies slept well until about 18 months but in the end they became excellent sleepers. She countered that in the meantime all those nights are erasing years off my life expectancy. 

Before I even read my scriptures tonight little man had awoken twice. I’m sure it’s that he’s teething but I acknowledge that we have some poor sleeping patterns and that I haven’t been vigilant at stamping them out. The reality is my sleep is just not as important as the sleep of the breadwinner or the sleep of the schoolchildren. I made progress this summer but regressed when the nurse raised the issue of insufficient caloric intake; I went back to feeding whenever and wherever even if it was hourly through the night. By the time things were back to pre-summer bad habits it was time for school again and my window of opportunity had closed. 

Sometimes it doesn’t bother me. I know this won’t last forever. And I know that I will never again cuddle my baby in the middle of the night once this phase is over with him. Usually I’m able to appreciate the sweetness and forget myself. 

Other times I feel like I’m being held hostage. It’s hard to not be a person equally important as everyone else. 

Poor Blue. He spent an absolutely blissful week in Michigan, just him and his doting grandparents. He had a perfect week and came home yesterday  so happy. 

This morning he is hiding under the covers, trying to sleep, while Babyzilla runs the roost. 

Holiday’s over, kid. Welcome back home. Sorry it kind of sucks. (He’ll be happy about things in a few hours.)

Patterns

This afternoon I was talking with my friend about an experience I had had with Blue a few weeks prior. It was a shameful example of how not to parent and one that I hope I never forget (how could I?) so that I never ever do that again. I relayed to her how it had taken me days after, wondering how to deal with myself. Without the luxury of time I couldn’t wallow for long, feeling like an unfit mother, so I quickly went to wondering what to do about myself. What’s a good outlet for my emotions? (Screaming at children had become my outlet but it was exactly that I was trying to eliminate.) I honestly didn’t know. After days and weeks of questioning I’ve only come up with one answer: exercise. (If there are other healthy outlets for emotions please tell me because I honestly can’t think of any.) So as much fun as this summer has been, and it really has been, I’m counting down for school to start so that hopefully I can excise some of this crazy before I lose it over something trivial again. 

So this afternoon Amanda and I were discussing this, and this evening I found in my Facebook memories that on this day two years ago I opened up a discussion about self care, soliciting ideas. 

I see a pattern here in my inability and complete lack of knowledge in caring for myself. 

Seventeen Years Later

It’s important to never let things be too predictable; you don’t want your relationship to get stale, so last night as we celebrated our anniversary at Pappas Bros., the best steakhouse in Dallas, I surprised Paul and did not order the salmon. For the first time ever I ordered a steak, and I ate it all. 

(Donating blood earlier in the day was carefully planned with our dinner in mind.)

I probably didn’t record it anywhere because of my blogging hiatus last year — we went to Roy’s. 

Pontificating, or how I talked myself out of my to-do list

The problem with sleeping when the baby sleeps is that leaves you exactly zero time to feel like a human, or do absolutely anything. 

Of course, if you don’t sleep you don’t feel human anyway. 

Lost

We are asteroids

floating through space:

at times colliding, crashing, breaking

–a violent cacophony;

but most of the time

spinning

floating

drifting

–alone and lost. 

Dallas

It finally came close enough to home last night that this morning I started the dialogue with my children. And yet I feel guilty that I waited this long, that I waited until it was personal to us. It’s been personal to other people, it’s been just as important, just as upsetting, just as scary, but I kept my family in a secluded little bubble as long as I could. 

This morning I struggled to find the words. I don’t have the vocabulary to accurately reflect what’s going on. 

Our country is broken. Our people are hurting and they are responding to hate with hate. We do not know how to control our anger. We demand respect without giving it. Justice is not being applying equally. We demand retribution, making others hurt in a fruitless attempt to heal our own pain. We are losing. And last night your friends’ dad was called in from watching a ball game with his kids to don his SWAT gear and enter what he described as a war zone. He survived but some of his fellow officers did not. 

Our plans after swimming lessons were to go downtown, near-ish the horrible events, to a museum. The area surrounding the museum has been cleared as of early this morning but I laid it all out to the boys and let them decide whether we would go or not. 

We decided that we will not live in fear (a personal decision I have made years ago and continue to make every time something scary happens,) and that art has healing properties, but that it was a bit too soon. (And I think my boys are tired. Also, they thought we were going to the science museum and not the art museum, which is closer to the events and has a delayed opening today, but more interactive exhibits.)

We have committed ourselves to seek out and to share beauty and love. We are going to send fun mail and do kind things.  Love is the only answer.