Sometimes the Universe answers you...(an appreciation...eventually)
From Robyn's Nest
You’ve seen it. I know you have. Hordes of rampaging toddlers like knee high Godzillas pillaging while their hapless parents trail behind, saying, “No, no…don’t touch, be careful, no, NO” etc.
I may be exaggerating. But not by much.
Picture it--today started beautifully—sunshine and blue skies. The birds singing. If the mercury seemed to be a trifle high for that hour of the morning, well…it’s spring! We WANTED spring. Didn’t we?
Madam and I took the bus to the library, picked out some new books, and had lunch, all without incident. I did notice, as the afternoon wore on, that she seemed a little tired. “Ah-ha!” I thought, pleased with my prescience. “We should go home. She clearly needs a nap.”
Oh, too little, too late.
As the bus slid smoothly through traffic in the left lane, it happened to stop directly in front of the playground.
You can see where this is going. Madam took one look at it, shiny swings and enticing slide, and lost her little mind.
Now, the books all say that you shouldn’t give in once the screaming starts. That it just teaches them to scream for whatever they want.
Usually, I follow this advice reasonably well, but I was hard pressed in this instance.
However, the choice was out of my hands. We were at a traffic light, not just a traffic light, but what had to be THEEE slowest traffic light in all the known universe. I swear, I’ve seen couples meet, fall in love, marry, have children, and dance at their Golden Jubilee wedding anniversaries while waiting for this light to change.
And so we were parked there, and Madam was screaming and arching her back now, and I could see the thought bubbles pop up over the other commuters’ minds. First compassion, “Oh, poor baby. It’s so hot.” Then, annoyance. “Why can’t her mother calm her down already?” Then, frustration. “Now we’re stuck with this damn screaming kid for the whole remainder of this bus ride, and I”ve had a long day and I’m TIRED, damn it!” Etc, etc. People in MPLS are VERY nice, known for it, in fact, but they deal better with the bitter cold than this unexpected heat.
Meanwhile, I was cycling through my repertoire of calming techniques, with absolutely NO success.
Did I mention yet that I had a headache so powerful it had earlier brought tears to my eyes?
So, yes, today, I was That Mother. The one who cannot pacify her child, make her behave.
Finally, in about the length of time it takes Pluto to orbit the sun, the light changed and we lurched forward. As soon as we got to the first bus stop, my writhing Madam and I got off.
The driver said, “Thank you.” I’m sure the other passengers said it too, silently.
I walked the rest of the way home, trying to tune out her wails.
After I took a Tylenol and a brief nap (thank you, TEG), I had a “eureka” moment. I have the answer to yesterday’s question of “where have all the deep thoughts gone?” Every brain cell I possess goes into trying to understand Madam’s wordless wants, and finding a way to either give them to her or (more usually) to redirect her with a minimum of screaming. At the end of the day, I just don’t have ANY more mind to spare. I am spent.
And that made me think of so many of my favorite bloggers, who have babies or toddlers or (horrors!) both at home, and STILL manage to write beautifully and profoundly about their lives, their work, their art. To them all I say, WOW and “can you teach me how to do that?”
So there is my little Mother’s Day meme, and a way to express my admiration—check these people out, if you don’t already. You won’t be sorry.
A Little Pregnant
Be Alive Believe Be You
The Bean Counter
The Believing Soul
Better Make it a Double (twins!)
Bub and Pie
Colors on my Mind
Her Bad Mother
Here Be Hippogriffs
La Vie en Rose
Left Handed Trees
Life's Jest Book
Mother words: Mothers Who Write
I know this is a VERY incomplete list (I am only including those I read who I know have babies or toddlers (up to age 3/4) at home—got any you’d like to add? I stopped at toddlers because older children are easier...right? RIGHT?
Thanks for giving me something to strive towards, everyone. You show me that the mind AND the children can co-exist, beautifully, something I am still working on myself. I bow and tip my imaginary hat to all of you.
Labels: navel gazing; family tales