Survivng Not Giving a Rip!
Had the buns, toasting in the oven, and incomes this storm over his Ipod not connecting right to the internet. All these past people’s names brought up and why didn’t I keep their numbers. I continued with getting plates ready, asking how many he wanted. The storm continued, right over the top of me, all of this about “him”, my nose told me “the buns” which I saved though toasted a tad dark. Applied the topping and went to add cheese, the storm blew in with its opinion about “not any on his”. Asked about the drinks, got this “did you want something?” So I got mine, headed for my office with “wait on me” ringing in my ears. So I sat, hmmm, waited till finally he maneuvered into the room and we started the movie, nice funny, simple goofy flick.
About half way through I remembered my shirt needed ironing. So I paused the movie, walked around the corner my foot stuck to the floor again (had happened several times today). But this time I looked, and suddenly spied a trail of shattered lollipops that were everywhere. I backed up, walked around the corner, my entire carpet, now with the light on was covered in little flecks of red and green. All sanity flew out the door, I so lost it! Seems my youngest in finishing the movie alone last night got bored and decided to smash these candies against each other until he had created these shards of stickiness everywhere.
Somewhere in today, being in such a state of bliss, contentment, celebration of my vision, I had been successfully been moving and seeing the perfectness of my home. Even cleaning the few dishes from this morning and a load of clothes, passing off the stickiness to something that may have been spilled in getting ready early this morning.
Just now in this place of being run over, stormed on, blamed, and ignored. Me, myself, and I had had it. I let it rip, roar, rage, and loudly exclaimed about my office, my desk, my stuff. It was to be appreciated or he could stay in his room, his side of the house. There was no way my son, a thirteen year old, was going to lord over me, place blame for his actions and problems on me. Enough was enough!
It’s the first time in weeks I have been that mad. But it is the first time ever, I have held my ground with the right to be mad, to have my say about my stuff my way, to hold true to the fact I deserve. To get mad, stay to the point, get things restored without lifting a finger, and not only did I not cry, there were no feelings of guilt. I was just being honest, and God did not strike me down, no lightning bolts, and no horrible judgments’. Just the truth, the realization I can be mad and I am still I good person.
Not the most picturesque evening, but I actually feel relieved, alive, and okay. Hmmm….