What do you do when the well runs dry?
I'll be honest...it's been a rough few weeks, mentally. I unfortunately caught some gnarly sickness while my husband was out of town. I spent three days on the couch feeling as if my adrenals had been siphoned of any and all energy. During this time I had to rely on the abilities of my 13 year-old daughter to keep the calm, cleanliness and eating aspect of our lives moving forward. She is an amazing girl, but this challenge was a big one. I may have recovered physically from that illness, but am still dragging ass in the mental capacity department.
I am hoping that summer, with it's lack of schedule, warm days and freedom will help revive my depleted resources. I am hoping that with all of this I will be more patient when Freya and Rona fight over the simplest of things. That when Freya refuses to do her Rhythmic Movement therapy, I can sweet talk her into it rather than get annoyed and walk away. That I can declare time most days to help prepare her for first grade, practice rhyming, letters, counting, and articulation. That when she is whining for something I can help talk her through it rather than just snapping at her in irritation.
Parenting itself is hard and demanding and every parent knows what it is to just be done. We all have those moments, when our well runs dry. But when you have a child who needs more from you, who requires a better understanding and compassion of how they think and operate, and your well runs dry...then what? How do you wade through the murkiness of constant irritation to an ability to nurture yourself, so that you may nurture others?
I don't mean to paint a dark picture. Life here is still sweet and good and full of love and some laughter. But I feel drained, I feel spent. I feel as if any moment one of the little ones will start a fight with the other one and I will run screaming from the house and be half way to Mexico before they work through it. Every question, every comment, every 'hey mama' is like someone poking at an open wound on my body.
This is not the mother I want to be. I want to be the kind, loving, attentive and patient mother again. I want to have the energy and focus to sit with them for art projects and games. I want to feel inspired to teach them about our world and our lives, so they can move through this place with understanding and recognition. I want to be the soft place they come to for comfort and sweetness.
Now if I can just find that damn oxygen mask...