I think one of the toughest things about being a woman is our emotions.
I'm not talking about PMS.
I'm talking about the rollercoaster of emotions that women experience on a typical day. From being weepy over a sappy commercial to proud joy over my child's accomplishment, to anger over the peanut butter smeared on the cupboards, to the stress that lurks behind the tasks of getting things done, needing more money, paying bills, juggling quality time, preparing nutritious meals. You have to admit that it can be mind boggling. Add one more thing in there like an unexpected play date and I'm about ready to Calgon myself away.
Most days I bump along handling what gets thrown at me. I may not always be patient, I may yell, but I'm correcting myself, I'm trying to be a better person, to be a better parent. I am even able to pull some good parenting moments out of my hat. Those are the days that I can put the stress to the back of my mind and not dwell on things that bug me.
But then we get to the dark days. I'm short tempered, I'm weepy over nothing, I hate my house, I hate housework, I hate running errands, I hate my life. And I find it hard to love my husband and be patient with my kids. Not that I don't still do for them all that needs to be done but some days it's just soooooo much harder to suck it up and show the love. Some days I'm just too damn resentful to want to lean into his hug or kiss him goodbye.
There is no rhyme or reason to my moods. They are just as apt to come before my period as after. At least if it came once every 21 days I can put it down to PMS, hunker down, take some PMS medication and survive knowing that it's just hormones.
It's like life comes in phases... this phase I am coping really well for months at a time and I can put the resentment aside and keep working towards getting ourselves out of this mess that we are in. Other times, it's just so much easier to dwell on the resentment.
And yet, I have a good life. I have a good husband. He's made some mistakes sure, but he's a good man. My kids are good kids. They drive me crazy but they are wonderfully adorable, funny, creative, active, passionate kids. They do listen most of the time and I consider my standards must be so extreme because I got compliments on how well behaved my children were at the home show. I have to admit that I was surprised that their behaviour was noticeable enough to comment on. I wonder what the other kids were doing?
So does it all come down to that this is just part of life being a woman? Is it too much to just ask for things to be on a more even keel? Or should I just be glad I am living and embrace the rollercoaster?
I don't know the answers to these questions but what I do know is that rollercoasters make me vomit.