The Pit of Despair!

No, this is not about the Princess Bride. That would be funner.

I was sick. I couldn't sleep last night. I was extremely irritable when my 7-yr-old son came pounding down the stairs around 6:30 a.m. (one of the rare times I was sleeping instead of tossing or turning) to tell me he was "scared." Mentally, I knew I should be supportive and loving. Emotionally, I didn't feel like it.

My husband jumped in and took him out of the room so I could rest a little longer. Then my husband left for work, leaving me alone with three loud, rowdy boys who naturally needed their Mom. I didn't want to be needed. I didn't want to take care of anybody else. I wanted to curl up under the covers, cry myself back to sleep and have somebody else take care of me. Hmph!

This was selfish. I was in a very rotten state of mind. I yelled at my son and when he demonstrated a very bad, rebellious attitude, I sent him to time out. That took about 30 seconds from start to finish. He slammed the door as hard as he could and things escalated. Eventually, he left the room and I sat in my bed in tears, feeling like the worst Mom in history of Bad Momness

My son poked his head around the corner timidly, asking what was wrong. I told him I was sick and tired and just not feeling well, which was true. Like the little codependent he's learning to be--sigh--he immediately assumed this was not true and that I was crying because he had misbehaved. He apologized and told me he wanted me to be happy. I tried to reassure him that (a) this wasn't his fault, and (b) that's not his responsibility. A few minutes later, we were sitting across from each other with bowls of cereal in front of us.

My son had completely forgotten the prior trauma and remarked, in response to something I'd said, "I think you're the perfect Mom." I wanted to snort milk out my nose and scream, "HA!" because I had just demonstrated the worst character traits imaginable a few minutes before. I didn't, though. I thanked him and tried to remind myself how innocent and vulnerable my children are--making it that much more important to grow up and stop blaming my children for my misery when I'm feeling ill.

We'll see how that turns out. If I could turn off all my negative emotions with a switch, I'd do it. I'd love to be purely compassionate, reasonable, kind, supportive, and validating all the time. It's just not that easy when life is swirling around me crazily.

I felt depressed the rest of the day until a surprise phone call jolted me out of my self pity. It was somebody who I hadn't talked to in over six months--somebody that I had a "professional" relationship with, meaning she was under no obligations of friendship to keep things positive between us. She was calling to say she was so sorry that she had missed an opportunity a few nights ago to hear me sing. She wanted to make sure I understood that she was very disappointed that she had to leave before my turn came. I thanked her and felt immediately buoyed up. She reminded me that she had heard me sing a few years ago, thought I had a real talent and hoped I would continue my progress there.

I hung up and smiled at my rambunctious children. It didn't make everything all better, but it was a nice little shot of optimism to keep me going. That's the kind of thing my kids need in large doses to counteract the crazy world they're growing up in: optimism. What am I thinking when I yell at them and make home a miserable place to be? That's not good for any of us. I need to practice patience and compassion 100% of the time--not just when I'm feeling healthy and well-rested. And I better practice fast because soon there will be a new baby in the house and there will be no more sleep for a long time.