You'll notice this post is in two parts. One very pleasant (first section) and one rather dark (second section). I know its weird but its just where it took me.
I love this saying. I'm not sure who originally said it but the phrase is in a Bob Dylan song (whom I love, so much that I named my girl dog after him. Literally, her name is Bob Dylan, no lie.)
I had a particularly challenging week last week. There was lots of laughing because I didn't know how else to respond to some awful situations. It was pretty crazy. But during those moments of horrified laughter, I did find relief in the fact that I am trying to really live my life. I am making the best of poopy disasters (that was one of the many horrifying experiences) and not letting it get me down. Though I am not always first to respond in such a way, its always relieving when I do. Poop being tracked through my apartment won't get me down :)
Now on a darker note, here is where my emotional vomit comes. I have been struggling lately (quite a drastic tone, huh?). I never realized the impact of Mother Guilt. I don't know if other Mothers fee this, I am sure they have. Being blessed with such a healthy, vibrant, smart, boy is the best gift I have ever had (except for finding Chad, I don't deserve him) but some days, I can't see past my blind frustration.
Chad is gone doing laundry tonight because I couldn't do it this week, I just haven't felt my best the past two weeks, both emotionally and physically. I am ashamed of this next bit, please be understanding. Because I have just been down, I have been short and snappy with Geddy and Bobbie. I am ashamed to admit that more than once I have hollered at Geddy while he yelled at me from his highchair or got into something that he shouldn't have. Then moments later I have held him close with tears streaming down my face as I apologize over and over again. I should never raise my voice at him or my dog but its been happening a lot lately. Are 10 months old forgiving? I pray so.
I try and control myself (I do everything from praying to counting to 10 to singing) but I just get pushed to my limit and can't control my tone. It's never been anything physical EVER but I never want my son to hear me shout at him. I was fortunate to grow up in a home where voices were never raised, where did I learn this terrible habit? How do I shake it? I feel like such a crappy Mom right now. I know that so many other Mothers have it worse than I do, why can't I chill? Am I the only Mother who is struggling with this? I can't express how much I love my son and can't tolerate this reaction any longer, this isn't who I am.
Please tell me what has worked for you. And have you ever had this problem? I am the problem and I am determined to fix myself but need a little guidance. Please shed some light, I know my readers must have had something like this. At least, I hope I am not alone here.
I think I just need to sit back and feel the rain.