lately i’ve found myself going from 0 to 15+ in situations that don’t necessarily warrant it. i’m constantly on edge and just plain angry. it might have a lot to do with being just plain tired. but it also has a lot to do with just plain not being heard.
part of it is living in a house with a toddler. toddlers don’t listen because 1) they’re toddlers 2) they don’t want to. you can also add 3) they don’t understand, but toddlers are smart. if she can figure out how to work the iPad after watching me once, she can understand what “don’t use the princess bike to climb onto the table” means, especially when i say it at least five times. an hour. every day.
i supposed i’ll have to accept it. but what about when it feels like no one in your household is listening, and everything feels like a fight?
eat your breakfast. take your meds. change your clothes. put that away. don’t touch that. pick that up. clean up that spill. watch the baby. put down the phone. if you stop fussing, it won’t take as long. leave your diaper alone. stop touching that.
am i talking to my fucking self, here?
why does it feel like i have to get to 10, a screaming, angry, red-faced mess, in order for people to take notice? i’m so tired of repeating myself. just the thought of how often i have to repeat myself is inducing some serious anxiety.
i don’t know if anyone (outside of my head) thinks about how hard it is on a person to feel that way. it’s hard to not be listened to, but it’s harder when you have to be (and feel like) a mean, nasty nag – i don’t want to feel like a mean, nasty screaming nag, even if it means the thing that’s supposed to be getting done is getting done (and half the time it’s still not getting done).
stop it. stop it. stop it. stop it. get down. don’t do that. stop it. not for climbing. not for dylan. leave the cat alone. stop it. stop it. fingers out of your mouth. don’t put that in your mouth. leave the cat alone. stop it. stop it. stop it.
i tell myself that my goal is to look out for the family, to keep us all safe, healthy and happy. it’s in the best interests of the family to listen to me and then do those things that i’ve been talking about. i’m not trying to be a bitch about it, just trying to do my job. why won’t they let me do my goddamn job?
maybe if i was an abuelita they’d recognize. a wooden spoon in one hand and a permanent scowl on my face. but in the face of “defiance,” i loose all control. i can’t stand to be ignored, it makes my blood boil. i don’t want to resort to corporal punishment. i want to be reasonable. i just want us all to be reasonable.
so now i’m wondering, who – if anyone – is in the “wrong”? what’s a better way to approach this? those times when i feel my blood pressure rising, how do i stop feeling like a stick of dynamite that’s about to go off?
seriously, i’m asking you. candid answers, honest responses please, because it’s only a matter of time before these chestnut locks start showing streaks of gray, and i don’t think gray is going to suit me.