Thursday, February 23, 2012

There's nothing else I can do

Red Red Red
Fiona Apple

I don't understand about complementary colors and what they say
Side by side they both get bright, together they both get gray
But he's been pretty much yellow, and I've been kinda blue
But all I can see is red, red, red, red, red now
What am I gonna do

I don't understand about diamonds and why men buy them
What's so impressive about a diamond except the mining
It's dangerous work trying to get to you too
And I think if I didn't have to kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill myself doing it
Maybe I wouldn't think so much of you

I've been watching all the time, and I still can't find the tack
And I wanna know is it okay, is it just fine
Or is it my fault, is it my lack?

I don't understand about the weather outside
Or the harmony in a tune, or why somebody lied
There's solace a bit for submitting to the fitfully cryptically true
What's happened has happened, what's coming is already on its way
With a role for me to play

I don't understand, I'll never understand
But I'll try to understand
There's nothing else I can do.

Monday, February 20, 2012

I don't want to fall to pieces

Today's the day
I pray that we make it through
Make it through the fall
Make it through it all

I want to know who you are
I want to know where to start
I want to know what this means
I want to know how you feel
I want to know what is real
I want to know everything, everything

I don't want to fall to pieces
I just want to sit and stare at you.
I don't want to talk about it
I don't want a conversation
I just want to cry in front of you.

Avril Lavigne
Fall To Pieces

Friday, February 10, 2012

an epiphany, and finding patience

Epiphany: Fletcher whines three out of every four minutes that we're together. This does not mean I have done anything wrong.

People, probably all of us, have a bad tendency to assume or make things about ourselves.

I have to stop doing this with Fletcher's behavior.

It isn't me.

While there are always ways I can improve as a parent and a person, I haven't raised him wrong. When he scream-whines, it isn't because I've failed him in some way.

My son doesn't hate me. Sometimes it's hard to remember that he loves me. He doesn't say it, and there are times that his smiles and hugs feel like a distant memory. In fact, the way he looks at me sometimes, screams at me, and pulls at me, it seems that he wishes I were very different -- that he detests me for changing his diaper, or for not making and feeding him dinner within four minutes of getting home, or for needing a minute or two to not be his servant.

My son doesn't hate me.

It isn't my fault that it feels, at times, like he does.

It isn't my failure.

There are many things I can handle. Really, with Fletcher I can handle absolutely anything except four hours straight of scream-whining. At 10 pm one night, when there was something very specific that he wanted but I couldn't figure out what it was... "What is it, honey? What do you want? What are you pointing at? But there's nothing there. What do you want?" and his whining became so angry and epic that I thought my brain was fizzing and about to explode and then...

"WHAT?" I demanded in the loudest voice I have.

...from across the room his body jerked once.

"AHHHHHHHHHH," he screamed with such betrayal and desperation that it knocked him to the floor and he lay there in utter misery. Scream after scream tore from his throat, his face turning red, his eyes watering, and he denied all attempts I made to comfort him, pushing me and my useless arms away.

Denying me, because I wouldn't help him and my reaction was to yell back.

I hated myself. I knew I needed to find patience, but I couldn't and never would in that mindset. His desperation to be heard and heeded was matched by my desperation for proof that I was a great mother.

But it isn't about me.

It isn't about whether I'm a good mother or whether he loves me.

I didn't teach him to whine. I'm not doing anything to encourage it. It's a communication gap that will be crossed in time.

Whatever he wants and however he asks for it does not reflect on me.

There is patience in this epiphany. Somewhere.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

to travel before I die

I've got the traveling bug lately, and not a two-hour road trip. I yearn to see certain parts of the world that feel very much out of my reach. I've begun a Pinterest board of the places I must see before I die. The list in progress not only fills me with wonder, but also a painful sadness, because many of these trips don't seem possible.

My list so far...

I'm curious what's on your list. Let me know. And I highly recommend Pinterest for organizing these fantasies.