i'm more of a stress/anxiety case than i would like to admit. in fact, it had been a crippling problem until the last year or so when i decided i wasn't going to unnecessarily worry about things anymore. and i don't! i don't worry about things! it's freeing! i still show concern and i still plan and organize and prepare and if something requires NECESSARY thought, i think about it. but that is a world away from constant worry! i say no to things that are possible for me to do and i just pray and try my best to do the things i can do or have committed to do. it's not easy and i'm far from perfect at it, but now i don't punish myself over and over in my mind thinking about things unnecessarily. it's so much easier to forgive others too when you abandon anxiety. you have to embrace giving people the benefit of the doubt if you expect them to do the same for you! i came to the realization that no one is sitting around and thinking about me but ME! i can't waste energy on things that don't matter.
putting all that into practice isn't a piece of cake.
children=worry
being alive is hard.
but letting things go is a balm to my soul.
especially since athena blythe decided to turn into a gremlin, constantly on the brink of destruction.
she loves to push her dishwasher car around the kitchen:
she has no problem getting and eating her own meals.
baking is a specialty
she will fool you with cute faces, but she it PLOTTING!
she saves her stinkiest and most explosive poops for when we are in a strict time crunch while standing in essential checkout lines at the store and the library.
she is the master of the car tantrum. screaming at a constant pitch until you reach your destination and then she launches herself into other parts of the car until i get to scramble over seats to reach her. she even got in someone else's van at the gym last week when she saw their automatic doors pop open. that's a new way to make friends.
she wrote the book on the out-of-nowhere-lose-all-muscle-tone-drop-to-the-knees-spineless-jellyfish-drag so that I look like the bad guy pulling this poor lifeless baby through stores or parking lots. but i don't worry! it's trying but it doesn't matter.
her tantrums are so epic, they are funny.
the paper towel stack tantrum rolled over into the not wanting the bath tantrum:
she was HATING me for taking pictures and laughing.
and then she was SO MAD when i gave her a quick bath.
she climbed back in to try and stop the water from draining:
and when all hope was lost she tightened into a ball in hopes that i would not be able to pull her out.
and then i recorded all the messes.
but it's okay, because children/barnyard animals are being raised here. we are a versatile bunch. seriously, these messes make my head twitch to the side involuntarily, but i'm trying to preserve my mom yelling voice for "DANGER, these freshly microwaved corndogs might burn your mouth!" and not "CLEAN THIS CRAZY MESS UP YOU MONSTERS!" because then i'm the monster, who at 33, should have better control of my emotions. i try to not unnecessarily worry about them remembering only those deranged mom moments.
homework was completed and folks were fed and we had fun and a bunch of neighbor kids came over and we worked together crafting ugly things that i'll sneak out in the garbage. the kids made paper goods towers and laughed about how much toilet paper i bought. because we require A LOT. i checked all the necessary boxes for the day and left the unnecessary things to another day because, "tomorrow is another day!"-scarlett o'hara.
but before friday fun because if this mess is still here, friday fun is canceled.
my mom had this poem on the wall of our kitchen growing up and i had parts of it memorized. it's a good one.
"Excuse This House"
Some houses try to hide the fact
That children shelter there,
Ours boasts it quite openly,
The signs are everywhere.
For smears are on the windows,
Little smudges are on the doors
I should apologize, I guess
For toys strew on the floor.
But I sat down with my child
And we played and laughed and read
And if the doorbell doesn’t shine,
His eyes will shine instead.
For when at times I’m forced to choose
The one job or the other,
I’d like* to cook and clean and scrub,
But first I’ll be a mother.
That children shelter there,
Ours boasts it quite openly,
The signs are everywhere.
For smears are on the windows,
Little smudges are on the doors
I should apologize, I guess
For toys strew on the floor.
But I sat down with my child
And we played and laughed and read
And if the doorbell doesn’t shine,
His eyes will shine instead.
For when at times I’m forced to choose
The one job or the other,
I’d like* to cook and clean and scrub,
But first I’ll be a mother.
*if i wrote this poem it would say, "i'll teach them to cook and clean and scrub with me so that they develop home care and appreciation skills". my version is a bit wordy.
