I'm feeling emotionally fragile right now. When life's smallest frustrations send me into a fit of tears I know something's not quite right. Of course, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what my problem is. April is coming, dreaded April.
April is when the weather matches my mood. Cold, rainy dreary days slip away one by one as first my father, then my sister slowly slipped away. Then one day I notice the sun has come out and warmed the air so I don't need a jacket, and I'm riding in a limosine to someone's funeral.
Joy seems so far away, and I can't seem to find the humor in refried beans smeared on the wall by my wayward two-year-old or the shrieks and yells she and her seven-year-old sister make when they play together.
Kind people tell me in passing to enjoy them while they're young, and I do, but I sometimes can't help feeling the urge to run away. Someplace quiet where I can sleep as long as I like without my beautiful little alarm clock waking me by shaking my arm and whispering, “Mommy, it's time to get up.” Someplace peaceful where I can eat without jumping to keep my dining companion from turning her plate upside down and climbing on the dinner table.
It's a wonderful job, teaching someone about the moon glowing in the sky and the seed that send down its roots and pushes up green stems that swell and bloom. But I can't help the sense of doom I feel when I watch my toddler figure out how to climb out of the playpen, over the gates, and out of her crib. I desperately want to give her the freedom and the limits she needs to grow, but I still haven't managed to find the motivation to get up in the morning without being pulled from my bed by the fear of finding her naked and smearing poop on the walls.
Oh, I freely admit that I'm a spoiled and self-indulgent mom, but I'm reaching the point where I no longer care about that. I need time for myself as much as I need food and drink and sleep. I need time to care for myself, nurture myself, and strengthen my resolve to live my dreams. I need time to heal my weary body and grieving heart.
I'm sure it's a good thing I have two vivacious girls to keep me from spending my days on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket of emotional novacaine. But I can't ignore the call to healing. And if that means tending to the child within, then I must comply.