Saturday, January 31, 2009

Melancholy...


I've blogged a lot lately about my wonderful life. And it is. I love being a wife. I love being a mom. I am exactly where I want to be and have to be at this point in my life. Yet I want to insert a post now and again to avoid hanging up a picture of roses and cream that isn't real.

Sometimes... it's not as fun.

Most of the day went by okay. We did spend a frantic half hour this morning looking for a lost dvd that needed to get back in the mail. And just after we had finally given in and called the dvd rental company to just bill us for it, we found it. It appeared that someone, whose name I will not mention but whom I believe to be taking his liquids from a sippy cup, managed to get his hands on it and dump it behind the tv. We contacted the rental company and all was well.
The rest of the day went by well enough, but... busy. One of those days in which even your todler free time seems to be stuck with lots of little duties and you are just looking forward to doing something fun and happy.

The highpoint of the day however was going to be a treat. A former collegue of my husband and his wife, a couple that we had gotten closer to while both husbands were working together, were back in town. And they were going to hang out with another collegue who invited us all. I looked forward to chatting with them again and I envisioned an evening of fun, talking, and playing 'oooh... he is so adorable' with Joseph. I loaded a big bag full of toys, snacks, books and a sippy cup as well as diapers and wipes to make sure I was prepared for everything.

I was, except for the idea that my son would go into hyper energetic overdrive for some reason, in a magnificent house full of antiques, expensive electronics and other child magnets.
Instead of reconnecting with the group, my husband and I alternated and often even had to play double sentry, in guarding a 16 month old acrobat who for seemed to have morphed into a flying derwish.

While Joseph certainly usually is a very active little fellow, this kind of over kinetic behaviour was foreign to me. I skidded in my pumps over the beautifully polished floor, grabbing tile coasters from cute little side table, folding away tablecloths, grasping for video game remote controls and stopping him fifty times or more from climbing halfway up the winding stairs, sticking his hands through the bannister and flipping the lightswitch that was now within his reach like a disco ball. I guarded potpourri, put books that were stacked artistically on coffee tables on shelves and generally tried to be a living shield between my usually pretty careful son and the realm of destruction.

Everyone was very supportive, very kind, and very understanding. But I was unable to have any conversation that lasted longer than 30 seconds. I managed to finish half of a cup of sage tea, after it had gotten cold, and stuffed a brownie in my mouth while another woman held on for dear life to the arm of my todler who was throwing a fit because he wasn't allowed to run back to the stairs.
Here was this group of fun, well educated people, with great lives, that I used to belong to less than two years ago. And now I didn't even manage a simple conversation with them. Most of my conversation consisted of 'what?' (not even the much more elegant "excuse me" or "I'm sorry, I must have missed it, what were you saying? which I used to utter when I had missed part of a conversation) while I tried to prevent another disaster or allow my husbands a few minutes of peace while he talked with his collegues.

I wanted to sit down and talk, to laugh about the eighties video games that were uploaded. To look in amazement at the Planet Earth DVD's they were playing. Instead, I felt alienated, lonely and ackward and sad.

I came home and I looked at our house, beautiful too and full of potential, but with plastic todler furniture in the middle of our living room as an eyesore of a contrast to our pretty leather sofa. With some toys that we missed during pick up time laying around here and there. And some stuff hastily crammed out of reach on higher shelves as a growing todler reaches a new level. I see baby wipes on top of the tv, and no side tables with pretty little knick-knacks because anything within reach is fair game for a todler who is just learning about boundaries.

On a day like today, it is good that I have memories of last tuesday, when I just had to tackle, tickle and kiss him senseless because I realised I am the luckiest woman in the world, with a wonderful husband, insanely cute baby, and the best job in the world. Because today, it does not feel like it.
And that's okay. Today will become tomorrow, and I will giggle at his antics, be in utter admiration as Joseph discovers a new word, and think when I snatch half an hour of knitting during naptime... ahhh, this is the life. Just not today.

5 comments:

Matushka Anna said...

Oh, I so sympathize. I haven't had a knick-knack out in ten years. The tops of our bookcases look like...well, words fail me. Yes, the wipes box migrates around the house and there's always a toy underfoot. I have been assured that one day it will all be better and cleaner. I hate taking the toddler anywhere because we play "follow the Michael-tornado" in turns. He always seems to know which item in a room is the most expensive.

I guess I don't have much in the way of helpful advice, but you certainly have my sympathy!

I live at prayingwithmyfeet.blogspot.com if you need to look at my chaos and feel better!

CRICKET said...

I completely understand, my kids would dance on tabletops if they could. I came from a very calm, children behaved type of family. We have a playroom that I don;t try to "decorate" but I have insisted on still having some beautiful things displayed. It will get better and you will be able to reconnect with your friends.

Karen said...

Oh, not only do I sympathize, but I had to laugh. We are in the midst of restoring an old house to it's former glory - all the while with a 3 y/o old and 16 month-old. At this moment, there is a plastic toddler kitchen at one end of my living area with the dining room table at the other end, my ironing board is near the fireplace because the spare room where I sew has no heat. Yet our friends understand where we are at this stage in our lives (and we have teenaged children also) and we still entertain, regardless of the mess and clutter.

Enjoy this time of life with your little one - it will pass oh so quickly!

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