Source
Was I was I my own
missing piece all along?
Not too long ago, I wrote about being in “The Drowning Stage”, this phase of life when I feel so overwhelmed by trying to keep up with the day to day of young kids that I feel like I can’t exactly breathe all the time. I liked this post–A LOT. When writing it, I felt honest and real, and I love honesty and reality. And I felt super-supported by people who read it, and support is a pretty great thing in this life too.
So has it gotten any better? Yes and no. My good friend Steph over at When Crazy Meets Exhaustion left a really cool comment on that post, promising me that the bleakest part of this storm is temporary. And her kids are very close in age to mine, so I trust her input (unlike those sketchy people with older kids who do amazing things like pee without an audience and leave their house). The storm in general may still remain, but the nastiest winds can and do die down. I think this somewhat abated chaos is where I am hanging out right now?
I have managed to cross a couple things off of my to-do list. This is very good news. Finding Effexor and the two best Mother’s Helpers in the world has helped considerably. My panic attacks are less frequent, and I generally rage on the world less. Rest assured, Mommy still has temper tantrums aplenty, it still confuses me how anyone has time to actually fold and put away laundry, and the overly perky voice of the bank teller still annoys me (I want her drugs ASAP). But in general, I feel like I have a better grasp on regularly passing air in and out of my lungs, so I think we are making progress.
Also, I made time to go get my nails done. This helps.
But I think the major difference has been that I realized I like myself better. I am 33 years old. I have lived most of these 33 years being on top of birthdays, never forgetting to stash up on toilet paper, and always planning my next step. When this crazy Drowning Stage introduced itself to me, I no longer had time to cultivate my intimate relationship with my planner, much less remember to check my voice mail or sign up for snacks at preschool.
Source
Put down the sponge and
back away slowly…
At first, this new caution-to-the-wind version of myself irritated the crap out of me. Who was she? And why the heck could she not think to take the garbage out? Ugh. But then I found that within giving myself over to the messy panic was a slice of fresh air. There was a Mommy who gave up on a lot of things because she understood she couldn’t master them all. She forgot to plan dinner, and let her husband snag some really yummy take-out (always happy to support the Chipolte empire). She let her kids roll in the sandbox because it just took too much energy to explain why sand in diapers isn’t fun. She didn’t get anything planned for Tuesday, so was available to help her friend with sitting last minute. She RELAXED because she wasn’t going to win it all anyway.
This chick was kind of cool. In fact, this chick was really cool. She might not have matching hairbows on her daughter, but she could pour a mean glass of wine and chill with a neighbor on a Friday night. Let’s be honest–the dishes weren’t going to get washed anyway. And she sincerely apologizes if she missed your birthday and is truly very sorry about all the blog posts she can’t figure out the time to read because she doesn’t want to miss her kids growing up :(.
In short, I have realized I am an epic fail at this organized, on-the-ball thing, but I like myself better. A whole lot better, in fact. So if you’ll excuse me, I want to go hang out with this groovy gal and get to know her better. I also heard there is a bizarre mystery stain on the carpet we need to doggedly ignore together.
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