I mentioned in my last couple of posts that perfection was not a part of this Peaceful, Easy Feeling that I've been experiencing.
Meaning, I've not been without lapses of composure.
Last night for me was a doozy.
sidenote: this post goes into details of my evening, some may find it an irritating, gross, and tedious read.
It had been an eventful, noisy day.
When late in the afternoon Maddie wanted to paint, I started getting them out. As soon as I had put one paint on the palette, she wanted to begin, so I hurried and fetched a piece of paper, then started pouring in the rest of the paints. (This getting ready to paint process took a while, as I had to clean off the table, first, which had raisin bran stuck to it from earlier - no, I hadn't cleaned it off, yet. I had been busy, thank you. Cleaned the den so we could have a dance party. Cleaned the kitchen floor so we could play with the car. Cleaned the livingroom before dominoes.) So this was about a fifteen minute process, as there are lifement interruptions in all processes. No sooner had I turned to grab the camera to take a picture then "I'n done."
"What? You didn't even paint." Two little spots on the paper.
Paint brush in mouth -with big glob of paint-, "no, don't do that" or "it's not for eating", something like that (they smell funny, and I don't know what's in them).
"Mommy, I'n done."
"Fine, let me get a cloth to get things cleaned up." She proceeds to paint the table some, which is alright with me, at least she's painting, but then she wants to paint it, sit in it, scoot around, paint some more, then get down and get into the livingroom. A No Painting Zone, to be sure. "Ack! hold up!" Groan.
So I must have been here writing (a respite) in the interim, for I can't think of what the children were doing for the next bit - I was ready for a few minutes of quiet time, and I hadn't eaten but two sausage links in the morning - I kept meaning to, but when I went to fix my sandwich my ingredients had all been snacked upon, and I wasn't up for hunting again - waiting for Eric to get home. Eventually I fixed a grilled cheese, because I could feel myself sliding into a not enough sleep and low-blood sugar grumpy place that I didn't want to be.
Life goes by, I think I was still back here on the pc, almost time for Eric to get home, I go into the living room and Trev had busted my door on the entertainment cabinet. I went to shut it, and the wood was broken.
I'm thinking "what the hell?"
"Trevelyn, did you break this?"
"Uh!" this is how he always starts defense mode I'm-in-trouble statements "I'm sorry! It was Total Accident!"
Getting angry. "What did you do? Why is this broken?"
I can tell you what he did, he banged and bent it backwards so much that it split the wood. Which I am beginning to view as a disdain and disregard for my home and possessions.
What the hell?
Eric comes home during this event - a pleasant welcome home for him after a long day - and I say after talking/arguing with Trev "I just want to sit here for a minute and eat, and watch television (CSI is just about the only thing I ever watch) for a minute."
A few minutes later my naked son grabs my sheer curtain in the livingroom (which had been washed that very morning because he did the Same Thing yesterday!) and scratches his bottom with my curtain!
What the hell?!?
"Trevelyn! Not cool!" I think I said something totally lame like "shall I poo on your pillow?" or some such thing. He laughed at my stupid question. A bit more arguing.
"Go wash your hands." I send him for underwear from the dryer, (my mistake) turns out they're all clothes for Maddie, so no underwear, he dumps out the dryer clothes onto the sorted dirty laundry on the floor, comes back "no underwear", I go look elsewhere (and discover the clean laundry now mixed with dirty, but I wasn't mad over that - my fault) find some jammy bottoms instead. Back to the livingroom, playing and jumping, then hands in the pants again, then comes in the livingroom with a big piece of chicken from Maddie's dinner, I'm totally grossed out, "Make sure you eat that chicken, do not put it back in the fridge. I don't want it, do you, Eric?" "No, I don't want poo chicken, either."
Dominoes and tangram blocks, videos and dvd's all over the (clean livingroom) floor.
"Please clean this up. I'm getting in the shower."
(tired smile just thinking about it) I locked the door.
So the latter part of the day, as you can see, I just had no wit and no resources and no skills. I got to a point where I just threw in the towel. I didn't care. I wasn't interested in reasoning, or communicating, or salvaging anything. I was in total Survival Mode, and I was using my penchant for bossiness for my benefit. Didn't care.
Oh the bliss of a new morning when the children are still asleep.
I wonder how I might have changed all that.
Melssia Darling questioned the other day how one can tend to ones Self before (er, long before) one finds herself throat deep in the quagmire.
Obviously I let it go way too long.
Obviously I was having other issues.
I was overwhelmed.
For some reason I was feeling disrespected - not sure what that's about. Where it came from, I mean. Usually I get feeling that way when I'm cleaning; oftentimes, especially when I'm on an agenda, and the babes are messing as fast -faster!- than I'm cleaning up. But my house has been in disarray for a few days now. Which usually would explain it, but in finding this new Peaceful Place I've been able to be unattached to it. I've been happy regardless of the various messes.
So was it Trev's inattention that I found insulting? His not paying attention to his actions? His lack of self control? The result was my feeling disregarded (not blaming him for my emotions, but me), but what started that thought in the first place? Tiredness? I'll still need to think on it.
Anyway, the Real Point of this story is that I still find myself -even after all that unshininess- in a really great place (state of mind).
I was thinking while lying bed this morning that I've had this thing come over me where I've lost my need and expectation for Perfection. That's where the peace comes from. As I mentioned yesterday, this is the first time in my life that I've felt such a thing - that my erring self is acceptable.
(When I put in the link for Melissia's post, I jetted over there to 'copy' the address, and I saw that she has written something this morning on perfection, too. I'm very anxious to read it!)
Before my peace/happiness had always been so conditional. Time for exercise, time for meditation, time in the morning to myself (I still really need this one!), a clean house, lots of quiet gentle time, never raising my voice, never parenting reactively, never getting irritated or impatient, etc, etc.
I think it goes back to what I've already mentioned in my last two posts - that just by going inside my own heart and mind, and not comparing myself to others that "do it right", I've managed to stumble into my very own wonderland where Me is acceptable.
I'm not speaking of complacency, or trying to justify my mistakes, or saying that this new and un-improved me is Good Enough. I understand well the necessity of kind, loving, respectful, and joyful parenting. It is something that I will strive to be/obtain for the rest of my days. It is a huge part of who I am.
I'm speaking of acceptance. And not judging. Not condemning. Not damning myself.
I'll continue to embrace this Uninterrupted Peace.
I'll make mistakes.
I'll get grumpy.
I'll say stupid things.
But I'm keeping this new found peace in Letting Me Be.