day of week

Thou shalt relax

5 September 2006

I’ve been trying not to mention this. But it’s already Tuesday and I’ve cracked.

Both boys have been acting up these last few weeks. Really bad behaviour. It’s shocking. And I don’t know why. Terrible 3½’s? 1½’s? Teeth? Surging hormones? The weather? Developmental phase? Who knows. Who cares.

My days have been a constant, relentless and draining battle of policing the screaming, shouting, crying, whinging, punching, hitting, biting and time outs of TWO head strong boys. Sending me into a deep dark place. Where I realise I’m not the kind of parent I want to be. And I have to leave the room for a cry.

By the end of the day, I’m in a dazed trance. The house is a mess. The clothes need taking in. The backyard is littered with bikes and trucks. Dinner has to be cooked. Phone calls need to be made.

But. My husband insists I got out for some alone time to chill. I think it’s the dumbest idea in the world. And after a LONG negotiation and discussion, I leave the house reluctantly.

So there I sat. In the darkest corner of a cafe. With my back turned against the world. Relishing a plate of ice cream, whipped cream and waffles. Licking my fingers one at a time, turning the pages of some magazine. Cover to cover. My mind floating some place else. Hours flying by.

I feel my insides washed by a deep tranquil water. My husband is a genius.