"You gonna catch up on your blog today?" my husband asked as I stumbled out of the bedroom. "You haven't written anything in almost a week now."
I smiled. I didn't think he'd noticed. But Craig had seen me stress out all week, and did a sneaky husband bit -- went to the blog to find out what was REALLY going on. Smart guy. If only I'd written on it!
This week I was reminded again of the importance of "seasons" in life. Not just the BIG seasons like college, marriage, motherhood, and empty-nesting . . . the mini-seasons as well: the cycles of productive activity, celebration, and rest.
This week was South Arbor Booster's first "Holiday Store," selling gifts and scrip for holiday shopping. We've worked hard to create our cookbooks, order the merchandise and scrip, and get everything set up. Too hard, frankly -- Christopher and Sarah were definitely shwoing signs of wear. The end of the second day, Sarah had the mother of all melt-downs in the middle of the school parking lot as Dad walked her to the car. "I WANT MOMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Clearly, Mommy had not been as available this week as usual. And her absence had not gone unnoticed. So I cleared us out of there as quickly as possible, planning to come in the next morning to finish clearing up the mess.
That morning, I was met at the door by an indignant staff member, who lectured me on my responsibility to take care of the facility. It did not go over well. I don't respond well to lectures on the best of days -- and this was not a good day. I fumed. I cried. I felt twelve shades of sorry for myself. And I lectured back, once I was safely out of earshot.
In a word, I had overdone it.
When a seven-year-old has a meltdown, there's no mistaking it: kicking and screaming, snot and tears everywhere. The grown-up version is slightly more dignified, but has many of the same sources. We get overwhelmed, and feel neglected and unappreciated. We want to feel connected and loved. We need a quiet place to reconnect and restore.
Are you feeling beleaguered today?