I think I need another blizzard to get back into my mommy zen mode. School vacation combined with my twin tornadoes and my somewhat crippling desire to maintain some semblance of order in this house has left me feeling all cranky and burned out.
Jude and Ellie are delightful but they can rip the books off the shelves, empty the kitchen cupboards, and strew every single toy inside these four walls with remarkable speed and determination. No sooner have I replaced all my books when I hear the crash of CDs out of a cabinet they recently learned to open. There are only so many high spaces in this house and we've maximized what we have.
So, in this frame of mind, I turned to my husband the other night and said, "Is it possible to adore your children beyond measure but hate your life?" In his very psychiatrist way of being, he asked if the clean-up was getting me down. Indeed, it is.
I recognize that while I *should* work on letting the chaos go, I just can't right now. There isn't much that I can do to mitigate the sheer monotony of child-rearing and it is getting me down. The only solution seems that time just has to pass but even I know that isn't going to be the real answer. One day, before I know it, I'll be longing for my children at this size. I hear the echo of those darn know-it-all Buddhists reminding me to stay in the moment. I hate that too.
Anyway, while I was cleaning up yet another mess in the kitchen, I noticed a white envelope on the counter. It was a card from my husband thanking me for all I do. Inside the card was a $20 tip. I think it was meant to be a joke but I pocketed the money anyway. The romance around here just never ends.