Saturday, May 2, 2009

The cure

I broke down sobbing last week. A good, hearty, sulky, pity-fest sort of sob. Tired and miserable and wallowing in my own selfish dramas.
Strangely, I usually don't have the full meltdown in front of my husband. He always tells me to go ahead and cry. He's willing to listen, willing to hold me, but often I will instead allow myself only to get conservatively teary-eyed with him, and lay quietly in his arms. Then I go perform the snot-nose, puffy, red, eye-rubbing saga to my mother. I don't know if this is good or bad.

It's not that I don't trust him, adore his advice, or feel safe and secure in his presence. Most often it is that I know he has enough on his plate, so if I'm going to feel sorry for myself on a day of difficult stay-at-home motherhood, it's best to not go whining to the amazing man who is doing everything to provide me with that stay-at-home motherhood. I don't want him to think or worry that anything is truly wrong that needs "fixing".
I love my life.

I can't get enough of my life. But every now and then it just feels good to allow yourself a few hours of indulgent pity partying.

The phone call sounds like this:

" (Sniffle sniff) Hiii Mom."

"Hey! How's it goin'?"

"Good." (Sniff, wheeze, cough-a-cry...whatever it takes to pass the hint)

"Uh oh, what's wrong?"

"Oh...nottthing..."(sniffy, inhale dramatically followed by a long enough pause so she gets the effect of the tears on the other end...although I'm calling to talk about my issues my sorrow still enjoys playing a little hard to get)

"Are you having a lousy day?"

Ginormous run on sentence sounding something like this:
"Yeeeesss. I feel like I'm living in a suffocating cage of monotonous drudgery. I clean and clean and clean the house and take care of the girls only to end the day with a dirty house from taking care of the girls and then having to clean and clean again and if we try to go do something fun it ends up being a nightmare...London was screaming the entire time in the store and kept biting Olivia so Olivia kept screaming and everybody was looking at me and I didn't have any tissues for the boogers that were dripping down Olivia's face from crying by being hurt by London. And Lily wasn't listening and kept grabbing stuff so I hurried out but all I needed was shampoo! I'm out of shampoo and wasn't able to buy any not to mention I can't even afford the kind I really wanted...I'm poor and ugly and my hair is disgusting and nappy and my roots are too grown out and I shouldn't have cut my hair cuz I just look like a lesba-mother and my neck hurts all the time from lifting three babies in and out of the car and Tyler and I got in a argument over something stupid today and now I probably don't even have a husband who likes me because I am a dumpy tired hag who doesn't wash her hair and is wasting away eternally windexing glass sliding doors that have crusty handprints all over them even though I am constantly washing the girls hands to keep us all from dying from the swine flu which is going to further harm our economy and we are going to end up homeless..." (double wheeze, double sniff, prepare for the climactic tearful finale...choke, sob...and done)

Regardless of how irrational the tantrum, I receive much need female/mother validation and get a little advice, along with a small dose of the perfect medicine:

A break.

Sarah came and picked me up and we enjoyed a nice long conversation and plenty of silly laughter over texas cheese fries and mini burgers at Chili's.

Mallory offered her free babysitting services while we were at Chili's in addition to Friday night so Tyler and I could get out. She even arrived early and I was allowed to spend a frivolously wonderful amount of time getting ready. I spent as much time applying eyeshadow as I regularly did in my pre-marriage days, painted my nails, and wore strappy heels that I could never chase my children in. I even allowed myself to admit the fact that I can still clean up rather nicely (that's code for: I look goooood).

Tyler and I had a lovely night visiting and holding hands and doing all the things that remind me how lucky I am. I love being able to focus on how handsome he really is without somebody flinging a french fry across the table or spilling their drink.

And then I'm cured....
and excited to return back to the life I needed to take a break from.

It is the Best Life.
But do ya see what I was saying about the hair?






6 comments:

Amy said...

I love how honest you are. While I usually have one of those ginormous run-on sentence talks with my mom or one of my sisters at least once a month regarding how horribly difficult my life is, I had an April that was filled with these every other day. And yet on my blog you will see tulips and sunshiney comments. So good job on keeping it real. (And I spy Fancy Nancy! Love her!)

Daron and Jamee said...

That made me sad.
And then happy again.
Remember the day I came over just complaining about everything and the advise you gave me was to take a break?

Sometimes its hard to take the break before we break down. Its like everyone needs to figure out at what point is too late and than take your break before that.
Mine is once a week, I HAVE to go out with the hubby and dress up real fancy like.

And I have to do my own think every day.

And my own thing every week.

Thanks for the chocolaty goodness last night. I woke up at 11:00pm thinking about it, and went to sneak a piece, and Daron was eating a piece, by himself in the living room.

Great minds think alike.
Jamee

Rae's Corner said...

Amo- we have you to thank for the Fancy Nancy discovery...you gifted us with the very first book!

I ADORE that series.

Rae

Alexandra said...

It can feel so good to just let it out from time to time and cry!

I had a similar experience this last Monday. I called my mom sobbing because I was stressed about my upcoming finals, the bank messed up my checking account, I told my mom I was getting fat because I missed my workout class two days in a row... blah blah blah....

Luckily the bank fixed their mistake, I caught up with school, and I worked out that day...and then enjoyed my chocolate milk yum!

I'm glad your feeling better!

Joan said...

Ah, 'tis the bane of every fake blonde's existence (I would know)...but every time I go dark (okay, fine I've only gone dark once)...I regret it. I just like myself better as a blonde. I don't feel right with dark hair.
Oh, btw: you CHOPPED your hair?!?! When? How short? I need to see a picture. Lesbo mom? NEEEVVVERRR!? You are a princess, Rae--short hair, long hair, or anything in between.

jenniferoharra said...

Oh my gosh Rachel you are too funny! And I agree with my sister-I love how honest you are. I so have days like this where you even feel selfish to feel bad but sometimes you need to cry and have a tantrum. Thanks for being so honest so that the rest of us can know that there are other out there that have these days too!