Change is coming to But Why Mommy land. Terrifying, exciting change is coming.
We signed Bunny up for pre-school next fall. She's very excited about the prospect of school (in theory). She is interested in learning. Everyday she asks, "What will I learn in school? Will I learn about giraffes? Will I learn about dinosaurs?"
I am excited for her. It means that she is no longer a little girl, she is growing up. Fast. Pretty soon she won't need me and that is a scary prospect.
We've also begun working on Turtle's adoption again. We put it on hold last fall while we figured some things out. I'm excited about bringing a new baby into the family. Well I'm excited most days. Other days I'm terrified. Things are so perfect right now, our family is in a great groove. If we bring Turtle home, what will happen? Then I start to dwell on all of the bad possibilities, the ones the books warn you about.
I literally have to shake myself to get out of this mindset. I know our family is not complete. It won't be complete until we have Turtle home with us. There is something missing without him(or her).
So my mind has been a little crazy with the possibility of Bunny growing up and not needing me and wondering what will happen when we add to our family. What's next, the unknown, the terrifying and the exciting is all right there under the surface. One moment I'm likely to laugh, the next I'll cry, the next I'll panic.
So with all of this emotion floating around, I found myself in the car with Bunny listening to the radio. I was flipping the stations looking for a good song. I came across the new Darius Rucker song and stopped to listen. I've been a fan since the Hootie days, so I was interested. I didn't expect that tears would start streaming down my face and I would have to pull over to avoid getting into an accident. D*mn you Darius Rucker, how dare you make me cry.
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crying. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Broken Down
The other day I cried in front of my daughter. And I don't just mean that there were tears running down my face. No I sat down on the ground, head in my hands and sobbed in front of her.
I've always been an easy crier. I cry at the drop of the hat. I cry during comercials. I cry during movies. I cry when I'm happy or sad, glad or angry. I just cry.
But I try to maintain control over my emotions when I deal with Bunny. I don't want her to see me to angry or upset. I am the adult, I need to show her how to deal with things calmly and rationally.
Everyone has a breaking point, however, and on Friday I met mine. Our house, our stupid Crapshack of a house, continues to break down. This time its the toilets. The upstairs one hadn't been working right for a while and we couldn't figure out what was wrong with it. We didn't call a plumber, figuring we could fix it ourselves. But we didn't. And on Friday the same problem happened with the downstairs toilet. We had no functional toilets.
I was mad, mad at myself, mad at my husband, mad at the stupid Crapshack, mad that I had to call a plumber. I was also exhausted. I had not been sleeping well due to all the things running through my head. I was worried about fixing the basement, fixing this stupid house, worried about our second adoption, worried about Bunny, worried about everything.
My emotions were rising to the surface when it came to nap time. Bunny looked at me and promised she would nap or play in her room quietly. I needed this one thing from her. I needed some time to compose myself before the plumber came.
But like so many times before and I am sure so many more times to come, what I wanted and what I needed did not matter. The only thing that mattered to her was what she wanted. And at that time, what she wanted to do ended up breaking me down. I could hear her running around, pulling every toy off the shelf, opening the door and running into my room. I could hear her calling for me "Momma, momma, momma. I'm not going to sleep. I don't want to play up here."
I went upstairs 4 times explaining to her that she needed to have some quiet time. "I don't wanna, momma." "Please." "No!" The fifth time finally did it. As I was walking up the stairs she was running back and forth between her room and mine. I asked her to listen to me and she refused.
Right at that moment all of the frustration and exhaustion broke through the little cracks in my resolve and came rushing out in a torrent of tears. I could not plug up the cracks any more. I had to let the tears flow or I would be swept away. I sat down at the top of the stairs and let the emotion overcome me, my body shuddering with the weight of everything I was feeling.
Finally I regained some measure of control and looked for Bunny. My display did not seem to affect her as I thought it would have. I thought her seeing me like this would have scared her, as it had scared me. But it did not. In fact, she continued to run from room to room, slamming and opening doors, laughing the entire time.
I knew that she could not possibly understand what it was like to have the weight of the world crushing in on you. No, I would protect her from that for as long as I could. I wanted her to stay that happy, carefree little girl. But I also wanted her to play quietly in her room.
Luckily for me and my sanity, we managed to come to an agreement. She played in her room the entire time the plumber was here, not fixing anything (but that is a story for another day).
I've always been an easy crier. I cry at the drop of the hat. I cry during comercials. I cry during movies. I cry when I'm happy or sad, glad or angry. I just cry.
But I try to maintain control over my emotions when I deal with Bunny. I don't want her to see me to angry or upset. I am the adult, I need to show her how to deal with things calmly and rationally.
Everyone has a breaking point, however, and on Friday I met mine. Our house, our stupid Crapshack of a house, continues to break down. This time its the toilets. The upstairs one hadn't been working right for a while and we couldn't figure out what was wrong with it. We didn't call a plumber, figuring we could fix it ourselves. But we didn't. And on Friday the same problem happened with the downstairs toilet. We had no functional toilets.
I was mad, mad at myself, mad at my husband, mad at the stupid Crapshack, mad that I had to call a plumber. I was also exhausted. I had not been sleeping well due to all the things running through my head. I was worried about fixing the basement, fixing this stupid house, worried about our second adoption, worried about Bunny, worried about everything.
My emotions were rising to the surface when it came to nap time. Bunny looked at me and promised she would nap or play in her room quietly. I needed this one thing from her. I needed some time to compose myself before the plumber came.
But like so many times before and I am sure so many more times to come, what I wanted and what I needed did not matter. The only thing that mattered to her was what she wanted. And at that time, what she wanted to do ended up breaking me down. I could hear her running around, pulling every toy off the shelf, opening the door and running into my room. I could hear her calling for me "Momma, momma, momma. I'm not going to sleep. I don't want to play up here."
I went upstairs 4 times explaining to her that she needed to have some quiet time. "I don't wanna, momma." "Please." "No!" The fifth time finally did it. As I was walking up the stairs she was running back and forth between her room and mine. I asked her to listen to me and she refused.
Right at that moment all of the frustration and exhaustion broke through the little cracks in my resolve and came rushing out in a torrent of tears. I could not plug up the cracks any more. I had to let the tears flow or I would be swept away. I sat down at the top of the stairs and let the emotion overcome me, my body shuddering with the weight of everything I was feeling.
Finally I regained some measure of control and looked for Bunny. My display did not seem to affect her as I thought it would have. I thought her seeing me like this would have scared her, as it had scared me. But it did not. In fact, she continued to run from room to room, slamming and opening doors, laughing the entire time.
I knew that she could not possibly understand what it was like to have the weight of the world crushing in on you. No, I would protect her from that for as long as I could. I wanted her to stay that happy, carefree little girl. But I also wanted her to play quietly in her room.
Luckily for me and my sanity, we managed to come to an agreement. She played in her room the entire time the plumber was here, not fixing anything (but that is a story for another day).
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Learning to Count
Yesterday bunny and I were watching My Friends Tigger and Pooh while getting dressed. In it Piglet was scared of the lightning and thunder. So in order to get him over his fears they taught him how to count the time between the thunder and lightning. The higher he could count, the further away the storm was.
Well I found that this theory can apply to bed time as well. Bunny really doesn't like to go to bed. In fact sometimes she's just plain mad about it. It doesn't matter how tired she is, she will bounce in her crib and cry. "One more book, mommy." "I want daddy." etc.
After an hour of this and a few trips to her room to try and get her calmed down, I noticed that her cries were getting further apart. So I started counting the time between her cries. And what do you know, the time kept getting longer meaning she was closer to sleep.
Who said TV never taught you anything?
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