Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Trying to be a Rock and Feeling More like a Puddle
I'm having one of those days when I truly hate being a grown-up. And I know this is something that every parent goes through, widowed or not.
We're just having a bad family day - my oldest is sick, we're trying to get our house ready to put on the market this week, and we just had to take a very sweet cat back to the pound (I won't go into detail on that one, but the pet gods know that we did our best).
We're all just down.
I don't mind showing emotion in front of my kids. Last night, when my oldest started crying about getting rid of the cat, I cried right along with her. It's okay to be sad.
But there is that parental instinct that makes us feel like we have to be the strong ones, too. My youngest has been cranky all day and while I know that it's because we're in the middle of a huge transition and I need to be patient with her, part of me wants to leave them all here so I can go my own mother's house and bawl my eyes out while she's strong for me.
After all, I'm still someone's kid. Right?
There is just so much a person can take before she sits down on her bed and starts to wail. Unfortunately, I have a sick kid in mine at the moment so that's going to have to wait.
I just don't want to be strong the rest of the day. I want to be the one who's comforted while I get all of the sadness, crankiness, and general unease out of my body. I want to beg my kids to change places with me for a little while and be the emotional wreck that eventually sends them into therapy.
I don't want to be me for the rest of the day.
Do you think my mom will write me a note?