If you have an active facebook life, as I do, it’s likely that you’ve read this post about “carpe diem“. It went around a fair bit through my Mom facebook friends, and in part because some of us really do feel this way from time to time (if not all the time).
Like today, in fact.
Have I mentioned that I’m pregnant? I am. Expecting delightful, darling bouncing baby number 3. Who will be the last in my line of offspring. The combination of having a 3.5 year old (he’ll be 4 in 5 months and 2 weeks, not that I’m counting or anything), who’s in the process of trying to give up his naps, with a hormonal/exhausted/permanently PMS’y Mom can be a little much. For the both of us, I’m sure. It’s just that I am a little more communicative of said frustration.
And sometimes, some days, you just want to stop the world and get off. Whatever happens in your world, we all have days were we just want to stop. “Here’s your ball back, I’m not playing anymore,” kind of days.
Sorta like today.
No, nothing overtly awful happened today; in fact it was a lovely day. My Mom was here around 9:00 so we could go to our appointments at the salon together (she’s entertains & occupies the little mister while I’m having my turn in the seat – thanks Mom!!), we had a lovely drive into the city with minimal traffic and nice conversation, fast and efficient service once we got there and in the end, we drove back to her hometown of Newcastle to meet up with a few of my aunts (her sisters) for lunch at a lovely little restaurant. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?
Well, it was. Mostly. Except that we had a 3.5 year old with us.
It’s not even that he was poorly behaved — he wasn’t! He was perfectly normal for a 3.5 year old. In part, I think I just want my kids to go to the Mildford Academy. He had a butter knife and was sticking it into the line of general traffic, because he could I’m sure not so he could accidentally stab an unsuspecting waitress. He talked to a patron in the restaurant and when she leaned in to talk back to him, he poked her boil and said, “What’s wrong with you?” He shouted at the top of his lungs – just once – because my very quiet rage finally got his attention.
Once one of my aunts advanced her application for sainthood (she offered to take him out for a walk while we paid the bill) the patron who I assumed my son had offended came over to the table to tell me that, “He was a delight – a very well behaved young man.”
This single, well-intended comment threw me off. I don’t know why I felt compelled to… not “defend” my feelings exactly, but justify my frustration, to this stranger, but I did. When really all I needed to say was, “Thank you,” and smile. Instead I ran my hands through my hair, thanked her, and started to say that I don’t know why he wasn’t listening to me, and really just rambling. This woman wasn’t saying, “Cherish these moments because they go by so fast,” as the author of the “Carpe Diem” article wrote. She wasn’t – I’m sure of it. She was trying to reassure me that she enjoyed interacting with him and I have done a good job. I just can’t stop thinking about it…
So did it help or hinder? How would you have responded?