I woke up this morning. Walked over to the mirror. Then noticed that my nose looked like I had been on a gin bender. Bright, bright red - especially at the tip where a giant blemish planted itself. One of those monsters that repels any and all attempts to cover it up. And when I saw this spectacle of beauty, I smiled. Because I knew that it meant I wouldn't be bearing a child anytime soon. The wait was over.
I think PMS can be especially hard on a medicated mommy. I know I'm constantly monitoring myself for crazy. Am I being too mean? Too weepy? Too obsessive? And when PMS comes around the answer is usually yes. Yes. And yes. Which is absolutely OK and normal. But I often feel like I've long since used up my quota for crazy with my family.
Though despite the PMS stress, I have been proud of myself for sticking to my recent resolution of spending more time with son and daughter. Which sounds like a silly vow for a stay at home mom to make. But when I get stressed I find that I spend the whole day running away from them. Hiding in the computer, the housework, the crafting, the errands, etc. The alone, introspective time I seem to crave to get right-side-up is often far more than the day allows.
But for the last 5 days the kids and I have spent time playing on the floor together. Pretending to be mermaids in the pool together. Pretty much just doing stuff together, instead of my taking them to venues they can play and then sort of mentally detaching from them while they do their thing. And the irony of this experiment is that I've had more time to myself then ever before. The kids feel happy and safe because we've connected and are content to color on the floor or play Lego's while mommy does her thing.
The realization that I needed to focus more on the kids hit me after bedtime one night. They were begging me to read them a story, and I was done and done for the day. So I pawned it off on husband. As I was falling asleep that night it dawned on me that I had two of the people I loved most in the world begging, begging me to read to them. They thought me reading them a book was the best thing in the world. God, what a huge compliment! And how small of a thing to give them that makes them feel loved.
UDPATE: I have to add that I hope this post doesn't seem like I'm advocating giving over yourself to your children's whims entirely. By all means, run like hell when you need a break. I'm doing it at 4 when the sitter gets here.
I'm just saying that it's amazing how much love my kids get out of having my attention and interaction for small periods throughout the day. Sitting eye to eye with them and playing together for 15 minutes 3 to 4 times a day. Versus just "taking care of them". And in the end I actually get more time and guilt free time because they feel satisfied and aren't bugging me for more, more, more.
That's all. I had to clarify because I hate mommy guilt and didn't want to pass any on inadvertently.