Breathing Again

It’s funny how you can spend days wallowing in frustration, not sure how to get out of it – possibly washing out the house with a fire house or indulging in a nice colon cleanse.

Then you just let go. Maybe it was the thunder storm or the backyard tent/campfire/S’mores/”forget bedtime tonight darlin’ cause we’re partyin'” or maybe it was just me remembering to breathe for Christ sake – breathe already woman so that everyone around you can too.

I forget sometimes. It’s all that pent up shit I’ve been packing around for a lifetime and have been waiting ever so patiently to have insurance so that I can find a great shrink to help me slap a bandage on it. I’m in desperate need of some anxiety management although not in capsule form.

And I apologize. Especially to Autumn. Because she’s not even five and I’m thirty-five and I often feel like I’m completely tripped up by the details of living that I can’t see the forest for the freakin’ trees.

If I could somehow change into the Lady of Guadalupe – sublime, perfection, an aura larger than fucking life. And I’m not even catholic.

Today was grand, smoky and star studded. I could feel the pulse of my true motherhood. I heard her every request. Every encounter was noted, gentle, remembered. Even her hollering was somehow endearing.

Am I the only one who goes through this, the forgetting and wallowing? I swear it seems like everyone else is just point on perfection with chubby hands dripping ice cream cones without even a thought to a napkin.

Or maybe we’re just settling in to being home together again, just in time to change back again.  Or maybe it’s because she didn’t have ANY sugar today.  Or it might possibly be that looming birthday – my baby is going to be what – 5?  Did I mention anything about anxiety – and yes it runs in the family.

I’ve never wanted a tattoo but I think I need one – a visible one that just says, “breathe.”


6 Responses to “Breathing Again”

  1. mushymoon Says:

    I’ve read some pretty bad material on the effects of sugar addiction in children. Apparently it can lead to mood disorders or ADHD. I personally kicked sugar myself! ‘Tis a drug, honestly.

  2. or maybe it just IS.
    Warm fuzzy hugs-even though you pretend not to need them!

  3. Breathing is a good thing, but ya gotta remember to not just inhale all the air in the room, take that next step as well and exhale once in a while.

    Britt is right-sugar bad! We have noticed that the combo of dairy and sugar (ice cream) totally screw w/ Maxers moods. Also, you simply can’t deny a Target addict her fix, yell and scream and threaten her all you want, but get her to Target soon or I will report you to the authorities!

    You are a great Mom, don’t ever let one of your other personalities tell you any different!

  4. You just have to let go of the perfect parent crap; no one is and if you have ever listened to someone who is trying to be or thinks they are, it makes you want to vomit.
    I once had a sister in law who would set the timer for her daughter before bedtime. My niece was well mannered, slept at all the right times, ate all the right foods, went to a private school, had a tutor, swimming lessons, dance lessons, riding lessons, today, she is just as screwed up as the rest of us.
    The majority of us are doing the best we can at any given moment. We all have bad days and make errors in judgement. Sometimes bad things happen; but it is not because we want them to; it is just life. You do the best you can and hope that your children, when they are grown, forgive you for the mistakes you made raising them, after all, Lord knows, you will have to learn to forgive them.

  5. You know your getting old when everything your mother says makes sense 🙂

  6. I can’t remember where I read it, or if it was just osmosis, but somehow along the way I came to understand that it’s OK for us to be imperfect. In fact, it’s a very good thing for our kids to see. if they grow up watching us handle our imperfections and mistakes ( by apologizing when necessary, working on getting better at things we want to get better at, that kind of thing) they will have a model for dealing with their own imperfections and mistakes.
    I find it comforting to remind myself of this when I am berating myself for not being the unattainable ‘Perfect Mother.’ Life is frustrating, parenting is frustrating, being 5 is frustrating, and we all lose it and go off track. So when you get up, dust yourself off, and get back on track, you show you own kids how to do so.

    Did that make sense?

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