Wednesday
Just typed that word and took a long deep sigh – Wednesday was a long day.
And it’s amazing how hard it is to be mindful when stress hits. I’m reflecting back on a number of ways in which I could have done better – with the boys mainly. C was on a work ski trip today (lucky bastard) so I worked from home and had boys morning, afternoon and bedtime.
Don’t get me wrong, they are wonderful imaginative funny adventuresome energetic little kids, and I love spending time with them. But damn, they wear me OUT.
By the end of the day, I was wishing for *something* to take the edge off – patience spread thin, dinner taking longer than I thought, boys and dogs driving me nuts (W peed all over the bathroom by mistake, Little C wanting a snack every two minutes, dogs underfoot as I cooked), and the thought of a glass of wine popped through my head a few times.
But I made it through.
All the way through to 8:30pm when I lit up. Ha! Not the norm for a week night, but ya know what, I didn’t drink. It’s on the Post-it for 2018, but not tonight.
Earlier today, driving the boys home from a nearby park, I was reflecting on their little personalities, how different they are. On our hike in the woods, C always needing to be 10 paces ahead (if not further), boundless energy – running running, ahead and back, excited, non-stop chatter. W always behind, by choice, going slowly, in his own world but wanting to be part of ours, he and I talking between ourselves. C, never cold – always with half the winter layers I think he should have but fine. W, the opposite. He was so cold on the way back, he asked to ride my back – tucking his cold hands into the neck of my coat.
How much I love watching them develop. Wondering how much of who they are now I would have been able to predict when they were 1 year old. And would I be able to predict now what they’ll be like as teenagers, adults? Seems presumptuous at this point but at the same time, part of me wants to record everything about them as evidence.
And then came the thoughts: I don’t remember specifically what they were like at 1 year old. Or 2, particularly. I knew I was erasing memories both good and bad back then, and I still drank. That’s depressing. Now I wish that I had at least written more down. Thank god for video and our omnipresent phones.
Hopefully, moving forward minus the addictive behaviors will improve my memory of the boys’ youth.