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Knowing Your Weaknesses (a.k.a. Your 30’s)
I’m old enough now that I know damn good and well what I handle poorly. (Don’t ask me to do/say anything when I’m hungry or sleepy. It won’t end well. For anyone.) And I know when I need to walk away…most of the time. Okay, some of the time. I just don’t always do it.
Let’s back up here. I’m old enough that I know what I can’t handle well.
I don’t handle unfinished projects well. I want them done.
I don’t handle repetitive whining well (like a 1950’s stereotype, I think you should suck it up unless you have a severed artery, in which case you drive yourself to the ER after fashioning your own tourniquet).
I don’t handle ceaseless work well. I like my breaks, and they like me.
I don’t handle social situations
where I can’t leave well. If you know me, you know.
I don’t handle situations that can’t be calmly and rationally discussed well. (Disclaimer: the Hubs will add that this is true only if I’m also right, which I usually am, so I don’t see why he brings that up.)
I don’t handle mess/disorder well. The chaos of the cosmos unnerves me.
I don’t handle distraction well. Though I think ANYONE in this society would have ADD, I actually DO have it. And I can tell you, it’s not fake, and I’m not doing it to piss anyone off. I really can’t stay on topic that long.
In short, I never should have had kids. Or married. I should have gotten a plant or two, moved into a tiny apartment in a boring town and joined a bridge club. Yet here I am, with a Hubs, a fast-moving Toddler, a full time job (technically- two full time jobs), a house undergoing crucial rennovations, a business… and a front porch full of plants that might one day overgrow the entire front of my building. Absolutely nothing in my life is in check right now.
I’m not complaining. Just pointing out how, despite knowing my triggers, I still set up a life where I regularly bump into All. Of. Them. I’m eyeball-deep in the business of life, doing stuff I’m not good at and getting by. And that’s the part that stuns me- I’m getting by. Amazing.
My little girl is a typical toddler. She whines, she smooches, she spills fresh yogurt in her lap and smears it on the table, she shrieks just to hear her voice bounce off the walls, she runs into things, she refuses to share, she does all of these things and only occasionally (right now) drives me to the edge of sanity. I knew I wouldn’t handle this stage well, but I’m surprising myself how much better I’m doing than I thought. My mom was right…it’s different when they’re your own.
Time with my girl comes at the expense of other things, and for now, that’s doable. I don’t like it, but it’s doable. I’d rather be with her than away from her, if that makes sense. I just miss hobbies. And money. And sleep. And friends.
I don’t have any grand epiphanies to share with you tonight (Unless you count discovering that my mom was right. AGAIN.). Just wanted to share my recent thoughts about mothering a toddler.
Oh, and humans are hard.