Today was a no-good, horrible, very bad day.
I was in one of my ‘mommy-is-going-to-go-bald’ modes where every hair on my head was in danger of being yanked out when I sat and thought to myself how.. my life is one big giant ball of repetition. While I am not fond of change, holy heck, people, to repeat the same things day in day out, no wonder I’m reduced to a blubbering fool sometimes.
Check this out:
- I wake up to hearing the same thing repeated over and over again to me. You can only hear “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” by your wailing toddler so many times until you feel as though your ears might bleed.
- Having to repeat myself to my children in order for them to comprehend what I’m telling them before they do it. Or, when having already given directions, having to repeat it over and over because they didn’t pay attention the first few times I said it. I feel like a broken record.
- Having to break up the same fights involving the same toys between the same children every day.
- I do and redo the same tasks everyday – cleaning up the same things, completing and re-completing the same actions. I pick up the same clothes in the same spots, clean the same messes, even if they were already cleaned minutes before. I open and close the same doors, wash and fold the same clothes, etc.
- I am repeating what I lived when I was once a child, living through it, now through the eyes of the adult instead of the child. A special type of torture, I guess. Perhaps that payback our parent’s once spoke of “You just wait until you have kids some day!!!” No kidding!
I feel like everyday is repeat in the CD of my life, and the button is broken. No shuffle. No random. I’m stuck on the same track with the same notes sung by the same person.
Remember that movie with Bill Murray called Groundhog Day? Yeah, that’s me.
So with the new year upon us, I guess I need to do what he did in that movie, and reflect. Through trial and error, Bill Murray’s character, Phil Connors, figured out that instead of trying to get out of the repetition by any means necessary, he tried to make the best of it, and better himself and help everyone he can.
Perhaps I should try to do the same.
I will try to answer my toddler faster and get her to talk to me about what she wants. Perhaps I’m pre-occupied with something, hence her repetition to me, along with the other children.
I will perhaps not be so monotone, and get my children’s attention in a better way, instead of repeat repeat repeat to get them to follow my directions.
I will attempt to amicably break up fights in a different way to get them to resolve their issue instead of fight once more.
I will attempt to remind my children of where things should go, perhaps circumventing my having to pick up the same things over and over, and encouraging them to help me help keep the house ‘kept’ the way it should be.
Most importantly, I will not look upon my reliving my childhood as an adult as a punishment. Perhaps I will look upon it as a blessing, a dawn of realization, with a new found respect for my parents, particularly my poor mother who endured it with me and my siblings (although, I don’t recall being difficult, according to my recollections, I was an angel child *cough*)
I will try harder, and do better. They deserve it. I deserve it.
But for today? I’m going to take deep breaths, drink some tea, and try to distance myself for a bit, and take a breather. Today has been one of the hardest in a long while.
