Things have been so crazy at home that I am at my wit’s end with trying to figure out how to get things ‘right.’ My kids make me crazy. I don’t know how 2 people who give me so much joy could also make me so insane. This is our everyday routine: we get home; make and eat dinner; clean up; they get cleaned up and take their showers; I take care of administrative stuff for both home and John’s new business; they watch TV; we get ready for bed. It sounds busy, still it doesn’t seem any different from what other households with children go through.
The problem is the whining, the not listening, and the bickering between the two of them. I find myself constantly yelling for them to stop or to listen when I ask them to do something. It drains my energy level down to a negative 100. We go through each day in this pattern. I go in their rooms after they fall asleep at night and feel so guilty for yelling at them. They look like little angels when they are asleep- far from the little thorny gremlins that they can be when they are being bad.
What am I supposed to do? How do I break this hopeless pattern before I pull all my hair out? I recall the days in my early years of parenthood; I had the energy to think about things and to try different ways of handling situations. I don’t have that energy anymore and I don’t have the patience. I am on reactive mode, yelling like a banshee, dispensing threats of no more TV or discarding whatever toys are not put away.
I ask my 9 year old daughter, Ally, on what I should do. Ally mentions that she observed Jacob one time, lying in his bed and telling his stuffed animal about his problems about Ally. He tells his bear how it makes him sad that Ally doesn’t listen to his words. Ally proceeds to tell me that this is what I should do; I should lie down with a stuffed toy and talk to it about all my worries. She even offered me her stuffed toys to choose from (she’s so sweet). “You should try to be a kid again and just talk to your stuffed toy,” she says. I consider this idea. Be a kid again. Go back to simpler times, to those days when I didn’t ruminate over problems. I look back and think about how long ago it has been that this part of me existed.
I believe that there is a purpose for everything. I used to think that the life that I have is payback for some horrible thing that I may have done in a past incarnation - my punishment! I have moved away from this belief, though. My life is more a positive and creative experience than a jail sentence. I now believe that everyone who comes into my life have something to contribute to my understanding of the world. Like little paint containers, each person comes with just the right amount of color. The friends who are those bright and cheerful colors, and the grey and dark hues of enemies. Each color is used on the canvas, to paint the picture of my life.
My kids are here to teach me many things about the world and about myself. Generally, we think that parents are here to teach their kids and coach them through life. I think it is the opposite; the parents are the students. Children are more grounded to what really matters. My children pull me back close to earth every time I blast off into the great unknown in my crazy rocket ship that is fueled by my outbursts of insanity. “Earth to Dorothy, come back to reality,” my kids radio in.
The problem is the whining, the not listening, and the bickering between the two of them. I find myself constantly yelling for them to stop or to listen when I ask them to do something. It drains my energy level down to a negative 100. We go through each day in this pattern. I go in their rooms after they fall asleep at night and feel so guilty for yelling at them. They look like little angels when they are asleep- far from the little thorny gremlins that they can be when they are being bad.
What am I supposed to do? How do I break this hopeless pattern before I pull all my hair out? I recall the days in my early years of parenthood; I had the energy to think about things and to try different ways of handling situations. I don’t have that energy anymore and I don’t have the patience. I am on reactive mode, yelling like a banshee, dispensing threats of no more TV or discarding whatever toys are not put away.
I ask my 9 year old daughter, Ally, on what I should do. Ally mentions that she observed Jacob one time, lying in his bed and telling his stuffed animal about his problems about Ally. He tells his bear how it makes him sad that Ally doesn’t listen to his words. Ally proceeds to tell me that this is what I should do; I should lie down with a stuffed toy and talk to it about all my worries. She even offered me her stuffed toys to choose from (she’s so sweet). “You should try to be a kid again and just talk to your stuffed toy,” she says. I consider this idea. Be a kid again. Go back to simpler times, to those days when I didn’t ruminate over problems. I look back and think about how long ago it has been that this part of me existed.
I believe that there is a purpose for everything. I used to think that the life that I have is payback for some horrible thing that I may have done in a past incarnation - my punishment! I have moved away from this belief, though. My life is more a positive and creative experience than a jail sentence. I now believe that everyone who comes into my life have something to contribute to my understanding of the world. Like little paint containers, each person comes with just the right amount of color. The friends who are those bright and cheerful colors, and the grey and dark hues of enemies. Each color is used on the canvas, to paint the picture of my life.
My kids are here to teach me many things about the world and about myself. Generally, we think that parents are here to teach their kids and coach them through life. I think it is the opposite; the parents are the students. Children are more grounded to what really matters. My children pull me back close to earth every time I blast off into the great unknown in my crazy rocket ship that is fueled by my outbursts of insanity. “Earth to Dorothy, come back to reality,” my kids radio in.
2 comments:
you've got wise (and not just wise-ass) kids there y' know. You're lucky to be learning from them. :)
Ang cute naman ng story na to! hehehehe
dito sa bahay, mahirap din ang nagkakasundo yun dalawa kasi nagkakagulo ang bahay, nagtatalunan...habulan...tapos mamaya may mauuntog or madidisgrasya, tapos in the end samin pa rin ang bagsak ng problema, like pag nasugatan....haaayyyy!
-erik
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