Tuesday, March 23, 2010

My Weekend & The Invention of Lying

Yesterday was my day off. It happens every week. I work Tuesday through Saturday and then my "weekend" comes. Sunday is never restful. Running to church and being out for the day is never relaxing, not that I don't enjoy it, it's just with a 1 year old it becomes a little more of a chore making sure he has things to occupy his time, food to munch on, clean diapers and butt wipes, enough drive time to get a nap in and extra clothes just in case. So this weekend my Sunday passed by quickly. We had a great day. We spent our afternoon re-connecting with a dear friend who has been detached from our lives and us from hers. Rewarding, but man I was ready for bed that night.

I awoke and it was Monday and I felt more than exhausted. My little guy is cutting teeth and if you are a parent you understand what that statement means. Lots of crying, anything accessible gets chewed on, now he bites, pain killers are his best friends and who am I trying to kid mine too. My sweet angel boy turns into little grump-a-lou!

After a long night of very light sleep and a ruckus morning of no nap-time for Ti-James, I was finished with him. My gracious, loving husband decided he would step in and take my little monster away for a while. I was so grateful. This meant many things for me. One I didn't have to attend the doctor's appointment for my son, I could lay down and do absolutely nothing and if I fell asleep it didn't matter my child was not going to get electrocuted or pull large objects over onto himself. The thought of alone time is truly a peaceful one.

As a mom I am starting to learn that quiet time, alone time, whatever your label is for it is a wonderful thought but in reality it is the most confusing moment in my life. When I am separated from my child (work excluded) I am lost. For me anyways, I sit there thinking of all these grand things I could do. I could paint the entrance way, I could catch up on laundry, I could shower alone, I could nap, I could vacuum, I could read or watch that show that I just don't feel right watching in front of my one year old. I could pluck my eyebrows, I could draw, I could play the piano, I could go for a walk. I find myself circling the house uncertain of what to do. Pulled from one activity to the other. I guess in my mind I want to make sure I do that one thing that has been calling out for me to do and I want to maximize my time with that activity and make sure that I put everything I have in into those few sacred moments when it's just me and the tweezers. After a few moments of brain fog, I decided. I walked out to my very out of tune piano, and I began to play. I played as loud as I could. I sang at the top of my lungs. It was glorious. Then I caved. I stood up, walked back to the couch and laid down.

I guess destiny overruled in that moment. I spent my afternoon watching re-runs of television shows that I have no rite knowing exist. Maude, All in the Family and then I decided I would catch Ellen because she's funny. Then all of the sudden I saw a black SUV roll down the lane way and my "me" time was over.

That sounds like a sad moment but I assure you it wasn't. My little guy went to bed last night at 5pm. Wonderful! For the first time in I don't even know how long my husband and I had an evening, just the two of us. It was lovely. We watched the movie "The Invention of Lying". I liked it. He didn't so much. I liked the idea of a world where only truth could be spoken and lies couldn't even be described because the idea of untruth was inconceivable. It seemed so pure. Everyone was so innocent, childlike. When lies were introduced to the world everyone was so open and accepting of the lies because they believed only in truth. It wasn't that concept that broke me. It wasn't even the movie that got to me. There was one scene that made me weep like a baby.

Jennifer Garner's character meets a little boy in the park. His name is Ryan and he is eating ice cream. A group of boys come up to him and call him big fat Ryan. Anna, Garner's character walks up to the little boy and addresses him asking him who he is, and his response is big fat Ryan. She smiles and looks into his eyes and responds with, No you are Ryan with the nice smile. I cried!!!!!!! I guess because I have been Ryan and there are far too few Anna's in this world. Not only that, all I could think of was my little guy asleep in his bed upstairs. I pray he is never Ryan or the mean boys, I pray he is always Anna and in those moments when he is Ryan I can be his Anna.

My evening after that was full of tears. I just couldn't stop. Motherhood is hard. It's not romantic, it isn't full of lolly-pops and long walks through the park. Don't get me wrong, I love it and those moments exist but they are tangled and weaved through a mess of heartache, hard decisions, uncertainty, self control, acceptance, breaking points, talking yourself down and tears. I have this boy who is mine and no matter how hard and long I look around for this kids parents to show up and relieve me, reality says his parents are there with him and that child's mom is me. This little being who struggles through teething is going to struggle so many more times in life. He is always going to be faced with decisions and heartache and all I can do is loose sleep, cuddle him, correct him, be there for him and make sure he knows that he isn't James whatever the world labels him, he is James the boy with the nice smile.

Those "me" moments are amazing. I get pulled in different directions and confused about what should consume that time but what I learned yesterday is that those moments should be filled with whatever I want them to be. I need to take that time for me, so that when I am ready to embrace my son and my husband again I am fresh and new, so that when they need me to look them in the eye and say, "No you're James with the nice smile" I am ready.

A moment to rave about my husband please. While I cried and thought about these things my husband made me a lovely supper. We ate it together and I didn't have to mush bananas and try to get my little guy to consume meat, I got to be me. I enjoyed my meal, some dutch fridge cleaning dish I think he said... and I got to just be... and of course we watched Hiccups... and laughed!

All that said I think I had a great weekend.

2 comments:

JimmyForde said...

Uhm, the name of the dish was "flurbadgian flop mess" which i believe in the dutch means, "oh lord what else can i put in this to make it look good on a taco"

Leah Joy said...

I enjoyed all that we found to put on a taco... twas good!