A mothers time out…
I often wonder am I ever good enough? What else can I do to be just that much better?
I usually find myself contemplating these thoughts particularly after an argument with my kids or husband.
Regardless of how I handle the arguments, the time and space afterwards is crucial to me, crucial to absorb their thoughts, try to understand, decompress and to heal from "war".
Regardless of who may have started the altercation, the heated emotions, the anger & bitterness, often leaves me riddled with verbal wounds projected from momentary forked, unthinking tongues, cornering me and then I too armed and stockpiled, spur an artillery of verbal assaults and pull the adult card as if that one reason is the pillar of an excuse to participate.
Drained and emotional unavailable for sometime, causes withdrawal, and distance, my need of space, time and peace for god sakes causes more sadness and disappointment as the kids bounce back and let life fall back into their normal routine as if nothing happened. Their expectations of me to be the "all smiling and all too eager to listen mother" of moments prior to the family inquisition comes to a jaw dropping, puppy eyed “what's your problem mom"? Which in turn leaves me walking away scratching me head in wonder, where the hell did these young people come from?
I hate confrontation, I hate being the cause of another persons sadness and disappointment, probably the reason I'm still married, when maybe I shouldn't be.
The tricky, oh hell, the shitty thing about confrontation is the more I try to avoid it, the sharper and shittier the outcome when it finally does come to a head.
With my own distaste for arguments, I find it intolerable and down right stupid for kids to fight and to the extension that my own children go to insult, disrespect, and discourage their own sibling's baffles, sickens and frightens me.
After raising kids for just over 20 years, sibling rivalry & senseless kid battles will bring me to the brink of madness. As most fights amongst siblings do, these battles start out with the most mundane issues. Computer time, the number of turns on the video games, who has the best cell phone, which kid was the devils spawn, sisters fighting over clothes; Are you for real? Can these be the most pending questions of my life that need immediate, urgent attention before blood is shed?
PG & E, you will have to wait for your check as my bill writing has come to a complete halt as my son just pissed off his younger but more frightening sister and the battle lines have been crossed. And then when I am forced into their arguments, and try as I might to be diplomatic, the little cretins turn on me and drag me into their blood bath and the next thing I know, I'm pissed off, saying the same stupid, cretin like words that baffle my mind.
So here I sit typing by candle light, wrapped in the shadows of solitude wondering what more can I bring to the table to be a better parent? How much deeper do I need to breathe in to reach for the infinite patience of the perfect mother?, how much higher the number do I have to count to prevent myself from actually yelling, Shut, the hell up”? Or a screeching halt, can you please shut the fuck up? You're fighting over shoes, are you really ready to battle to the death over purple vans?
What my children fail to see is that the old dog walking away, tail dragging to lick her wounds, (wild eyed and all) is really a warrior, restocking her arsenal of love, patience and prayers, hugs and kisses to gear up for the next battle…
For every slashing of the verbal whip, I pray "please give me strength, patience and kindness". Please give them, my children "the power of patience, kindness and tolerance". Please help me be a better mother, a better parent, a better wife, a better person.
