It's Sunday afternoon. It's been a long week. The kids have been on mid-Winter break this past week. Being on the school board, I should know the reason for this break, but I do not. All I know is that only 1 1/2 years into the school process, I have joined the ranks of those parents who long for week-long breaks to come to an end. Yes, I am ready for school to resume.
Being a single parent means, perhaps, that I need more frequent breaks from my children. I have felt that to the inth degree this week. We have experienced some very fun firsts, the kids and I. We rode a passenger train together (Amtrak) for the first time. We visited Storyland and Playland - riding amusement park rides together - for the first time. Despite the usual bickering, arguing and disagreements, I have thoroughly enjoyed my two favorite little people, Benjamin and Elizabeth, during these "firsts." But this concentrated time together has left me drained. Spent. There are no reserves left at this point.
As I just attempted to explain to Ben, I consider Sundays to be family time (this in response to his inquiry why he cannot have a friend over or go to a friend's house). It is the one day a week I request all three of us take a nap after church. Often, Ben is compliant. Not today. On a day when I so needed some extra rest, he remained in his room for far too short a time.
I was lying on the couch, trying desperately to catch that much-needed rest, when he came out from his room, repeatedly calling "Mama." When I failed to answer, he quietly entered the living room where I was trying to rest. Again, he gently called out "Mama" and upon acknowledging him, handed me a bundle of alphabet cards. He systematically layed them out on the ground - but not before taking his stuffed gorilla and Trusty the dog and setting them at attention to his grid of lettered cards. He let each animal take a turn turning over the capital and matching lower case letter, while having quiet conversation with each 'player.' The tears of exhaustion and delight streamed down my face as I listened to his commentary. Why in the world did our Magnificent Father grant me stewardship of this precious child?
In the midst of my angst is one dear gentleman who desires my company. He is willing to let me sob on his shoulder, share my grievances, and take part in my joys. Yet another individual I feel undeserving of.
I am at enormous conflict these past many days. I feel completely inadequate as a parent or a partner. In a week, I will be starting a parenting class and (probably unrealistically) expect it to solve my poor parenting practices. I am lacking in my abilities to manage my home, my finances, my time, my energy. Where can I buy a few extra hours to supplement my allotted 24? Never mind; I don't have the finances to purchase them. I am falling further behind in my Bible study; God gets cheated again. I haven't done laundry or dusted, vacuumed, or attended to the multiplying piles of mail, books, papers and "stuff" accumulating around our home. The dog, car, dishes, clothes, and kids all need to be bathed.
How do I ever get caught up? I've heard countless times to let things go; your children are this age only once and we should enjoy and treasure these times. I have let things go and it ain't easy. "Letting go" is incredibly difficult for someone of my temperament. Productivity and order are of great importance to me; lack of same for any extended period of time can be of genuine trial for me.
At this point, I don't even know where to start addressing the disorder I sense. It is like a cloak weighing me down. The kids, of course, have absolutely no comprehension of my challenges. I alternately wish I could violently smash and destroy all in my path... and otherwise, curl up and vanish in my own misery and inadequacies.
