Moderation: not really my bag, baby.

Ugh!

When I was younger, I had something of an anger management problem. My temper was legendary, my voice was loud, my list of grudges was endless and non-forgiving, and the list of things and relationships I damaged with my outbursts was long, indeed. I fought hard, and believe me, I fought dirty.

Over time, I realized how destructive my inability to rationally deal with my feelings was, and how much energy it took away from my life to nurture anger and fight every battle as though it were a matter of life and death. I vowed to first and foremost stop fighting dirty. And I don’t.

 The problem is that somehow I have ventured way too far into the opposite direction………….I get angry, I stifle it, I forgive too easily, and I let people I love get away with far too much. I try and rise above the fray, to fight the battles that really are important, but I feel the Monster lurking………….I am M.A.D. Way mad. Sick of Being The Bigger Person. Sick of Offering The Benefit Of The Doubt. Sick of letting bygones be bygones, tired of subjugating my anger and hurt for the Greater Good.

I fear that one day either it will all rush forth, a tsunami of pent up feelings that will wash away all the good things in my life or else I will continue to shrink under the weight of it all, and disappear.

Julie's really truly horrible awful bad day

My day:

5:00, Drew wakes up.

6:30, leave to take H to airport cause he is OOT for a week

7:30, home, breakfast, playing, I tear UP my back twisting awkwardly putting stroller in Cliff’s SUV. I am dying of pain.

9:30, go pick up grandma to go run errands. Drew sleeps in the car for over an hour while mom and I take turns running into places

11:30 Arrive at mall. Spend a half hour just walking around till damn stores open because God would be offended if I bought panties before noon. Drew refused both stroller AND a grandma carry. He wants to be carried by me or to walk with no holding hands. Ach!

12:01, complete underwear purchase (get home to find in my haste I grabbed several wrong sizes)

12:15, seated at California Pizza Kitchen, thinking food will turn the lil’ mans attitude around

12:25, request our freshly brought food be packaged TO GO.

12:30, walk out of mall struggling with my awful nack to carry my SCREAMING, kicking, bucking toddler much to the amusement of all passers by.

1:00, get home to Cliff’s phone call about his wasted business trip, our loss of $1000 (unless the DMV can help in the morning) bewcause his license is expired and if he can’t rent a car, he can’t do anything on the trip and has to just come home

3:00, run to store for dog food and necessities. Drew refuses to sit in cart seat, insists on sitting in the actual cart. I comply, which I NEVER do, as long as he sits on his bottom. I say “Sit on your bottom!” 47,548 times in the next half hour and get chewed out by an older lady (even though I never, ever stepped away or took my hand off the cart)

3:30, stuff older lady’s body in my trunk, try to decide what Tony Soprano would do with it.

5:00, make Drew dinner – grated carrots in yogurt to start. Look over to see him flinging it everywhere – my walls, my floor, the fridge door.

5:30 bathtime. Drew pees on the rug while waiting for the tub to fill, I put him in and he grabs a big stadium cup, fills it with water and dumps it OUTSIDE the tub and all over me. Then he poops in the tub.

6:00 Done with Bath 2. Go to nursery, find dog eating a poopy diaper she got from where? I have NO IDEA. Spend 15 minutes cleaing up poopy diaper remains and vaccuming up poopy gel bits.

7:30, Drew’s in bed.

I can’t decide if I should go to bed, eat a half gallon of Blue Bell, drink a bottle of Jack, or just run, run AWAY! My house looks like a tornado hit it, and I still have a body to dispose of.

Sunny Days, indeed

I was (trying) to work from home today, but Drew wasn’t having any of it. I HAD to get some things done, though, so I caved and flipped on a Sesame Street we recorded to use when he has nebulizer treatments. I sat with him on the floor, he was between my legs leaning against me and I heard the familiar song I have not heard in what — 30 years?

sunny days
sweeping the clouds away
on my way to where the air is sweet
can you tell me how to get
how to get to sesame street

Drew clapped, and laughed, and I could smell his sweet morning toddler smell, and his hair was soft under my hand, and I was so happy I just could not contain it, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I gave up on silly work and we laughed and danced together and learned about Being Prepared and about the letter “S”. How lucky am I? Such a sweet, smart little boy. Totally more than I deserve, and I hope he grows up knowing how much I treasure him and how much I wanted him and how I carry my love and thoughts of him with me every single minute of the day.