happy…whatever.

01Jan09

On the heels of nearly completely forgetting that yesterday was New Year’s Eve, I decided that New Year’s is a crock. A new day in a string of days that make up a lifetime. We don’t get all giddy about it turning a new month every month or even a new week or new day or new hour or new decade, what’s so special about a year?

I’m not getting it, and it’s not been too happy: so far, I’ve gotten into blow-outs with every single member of my family today.

Seriously, folks, I’ve had it. HAD it. I feel like I spend all day long roping in kids, and this morning, for once, it looked like I was going to get a peaceful morning. The kids were wrapped up watching The Polar Express; Joe was making pancakes. I thought we could continue like this at least through breakfast. Why not?

It’s because I put expectations on it that it all went down the crapper.

Ever hear of transference? It’s this doozy of a psychological term (dang I’ve been in therapy a long time) that is a fancy way of saying “taking something out on somebody.” We do it all the time, every day, always, always. You react a certain way to a certain situation not only because of the situation but also because of a history you’ve had with situations like it.

Well, like I said, I had it with the boys — and when E-Niner couldn’t sit still at breakfast (never can, what was I thinking?) after I asked him and bribed him and motivated him for the bazillionth time, all the while hearing Joe discipline T783 for hitting me because T783 was trying to get out of eating breakfast by crawling on my chair (which, when I tried to stop him, he hit me), in addition to having a TV commercial blaring in the background for some belly bulger on sale for $19.95 I. lost. it.

I’ve been stewing for a while (geez, ya think?) about E-Niner’s issues and why such an innocent little boy could be hit with so many awful things and how it is possible that we can do and are willing to do anything in the world to help him, but things still aren’t better (though they aren’t worse either), and I took my anger with his situation on him. Yelling, screaming, asking why he couldn’t just sit still and eat breakfast for once, just once.

Then I took it out on T783 for hitting me. Then Joe got mad at me since I was obviously way over-reacting to E-Niner’s tap dancing with pancake, which is when Joe suggested that he does a better job with the kids than I do, I told him to go ahead and do it. I’ll happily go to work. Happily. :) :) :) Can I be clearer on that?

This is totally not the family life I imagined. This is not how I imagined being a mother, a wife, a person. I was never a raging lunatic on the verge of an angry outburst or tears galore. I used to be this calm, quiet person who minded her own business and went about her day. In fact everywhere I could, I would try to keep the peace, not stir things up! I don’t like being an angry witch woman, but it’s who I’ve become.

I went upstairs and dreamed of disappearing, of moving to sunny California by myself and changing my name, of scraping together extra money here and there to use to buy an apartment and start leading a double life where at least I have an ounce of control over what happens in a day, of getting in my car and just simply driving, of hiring someone to fake-kidnap me for a week while I spent the time in a far-away spa. I liked the fake-kidnapping the best. Anything with a spa.

Then I thought if I were really a good screenwriter, any one of these would make an entertaining story. Then I remembered that this is real life and that I am way too responsible to do any of these things. And then I thought that perhaps this is my problem.

I feel way too responsible. Some things about our family’s issues aren’t my fault. And some things, I just can’t fix no matter how hard I try. I’m going to need to learn to accept some things, but how on earth do you go about doing that?

I don’t want to accept that my kid has profound special needs. I have higher hopes for him than that!! I don’t want to accept that my family can’t one day just be normal and do normal things like wake up in the morning and not have it be World War III or even minor battles on the fronts like Eating and Sitting Still and Chewing Your Food!!

I feel like if I accept these things that it means I’m giving in. Giving up. I don’t want to give up. I can’t give up. I refuse to give up on my son. I don’t know what else to do or where else to turn. But I am not going to let things turn out like this.

So instead, I will continue to plod along this God-forsaken course hoping that at some point, somehow, something will give around here and change for the better. In the words of my esteemed Governor, happy bleepin’ new year.

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I’m closing comments on this one. This isn’t a pity party.


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