Posted by Kimberly on February 8th, 2007 — Posted in Kipple, iVillage
I feel like I’m a house of cards, precariously balanced on a razor’s edge. I feel like the slightest puff of wind will send me toppling, that the slightest tremour will send me crashing down.
I won’t, of course. I’ve withstood far more in my life, but I’m tired this week.
I’m tired of being poor. Of never having any money. I’m tired of the constant juggling of want and need, of living with a constant calculator in the back of my mind, or living with the consequences when I don’t.
Balancing, I get. That feeling of standing on top of a spinning ball, rolling with it and not falling off. That I can do. But I hate this feeling I’ve had the past couple of weeks of constantly having the rug pulled out from under me. Like everytime I think it’s done, that nothing else irritating, frustrating, or just plain crappy is going to happen, I lose my bus pass, get an unexpected bill, break the zipper on my favourite pair of boots, or find out that our boundary exemption for Diva Girl’s school won’t be renewed for next year.
I’m tired of feeling like I’m being pulled in a thousand different directions, and like I’m breaking and not bending under the pressure.
I’m tried of Diva Girl’s whining about the indignities of having to do her homework all by herself. I’m tired of the Shaolin Toddler chasing the cat and then screaming when it bites her. I’m tired of the toys and clothes and crumbs scattered throughout my apartment. I’m tired of hearing my angry voice.
I’m tired of feeling stressed and worn out and like there’s a storm cloud over my head. Somebody tell me something good.
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Posted by Kimberly on February 2nd, 2007 — Posted in The Ladies, Kipple, iVillage
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Today did not start out as a good day. I was in a vile mood all day, annoyed with friends for transgressions both real and imagined and just generally disgruntled with the world at large. The last thing I was in the mood for was sibling bickering and Dora the Explorer as my daily soundtrack. So of course, it was also a P.D. Day.
I really could have used a cocktail playdate today. Instead, I was invited to a tea party.
I didn’t want to play tea party. I wanted to surf aimlessly around the net, or read a book without pictures, or go back to bed until the stormcloud over my head had lifted. But I went to the tea party.
And, sitting on the floor of The Ladies’ playroom, holding my pinky in the air as I sipped my pretend drink, I realized something. I was having fun. I wasn’t grumpy anymore; instead, I was silly, relaxed, and completely enjoying myself. I might not have been sipping the Momtini I had been dreaming of, but my imaginary tea was hardly a pale second choice. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything I’d have rather been doing.
Certainly not sitting around, wallowing in my funk. Which is what I would have been doing, along with the laundry and the dishes and the million other day to day drudgeries if The Ladies hadn’t forced me to just let it all go for a little while. I’m embarrassed to admit that this is a lesson I’ve had to learn repeatedly over the years, that the way to enjoy this whole motherhood thing is to often put aside my resistance and my desire to be doing something else and just do it. I’ve learned it hiding in closets with my giggling toddler, waiting for her sister to find us, in rousing games of peekaboo, in marathon Monopoly sessions that were grudgingly begun, and today, sitting beside the cat, spooning imaginary sugar into a flower shaped teacup with a forgetmenot spoon.
Some lessons are definitely worth repeating, even if you haven’t forgotten them.
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