We humans are truly strange in our relationships, especially with those we are closest to.  Whether it be a child, a friend, a lover, or a life partner/spouse, they get to see us at our very best.  They get to experience our kindness and selflessness and love, our compassion and forgiving, our true selves without walls or holding back.  It’s a beautiful thing when you get to that place in a relationship with someone when you can truly be yourself without hesitation or fear.  It is the side that the others don’t know even exist.  It’s the side that sings in the car, that acts goofy, that says what is on your mind no matter what it is, that can make mistakes without feeling ashamed.  The others see the shell of a person, but it’s those that are close who get to experience the whole person.

Of course, the downfall to all of this is that those closest often see the worst of us as well.  They feel the stress and the pain.  They sit front row to the bad times, often too close, feeling the sting as we lash out against whatever is bringing us down.   They get the ugly and the mean side that the others aren’t faced with. 

When those waves of stress come to beat you down, you reach out for the closest thing in desperation or frustration or anger, and in your haste to stay above water, end up pushing whatever (or whoever) you get hold of down to hold yourself up.  Sometimes they are standing ready with a life vest to hold you both afloat.  But sometimes they’re not.  Sometimes you catch them so by surprise that they end up taking the brunt of the crash and end up more salty than you.

I was an asshole this morning. 

I have a strict time-table in the mornings before work.  I get up at the last possible moment to take a shower.  In the shower, I figure out my clothes for the day.  I get dressed (in the pre-figured-out outfit) and get coffee.  I wake the boy, give him clothes, and set his toothbrush up for brushing.  I fix my face and hair, check on the boy, then wake the girl.  I get the girl dressed (usually with lots of whining about how tired she is.  I work in an extra 5 minutes for this) and head downstairs.  On a normal morning, the kids get juice while I heat up the car, we put on coats and shoes and head out.

Now, as I mentioned above, I get up at the last possible moment.  Timing is everything.  So if anything, anything holds me up I go into a huge mini-meltdown.  Ok, I freak.  If I can’t find what I’d planned to wear.  If the kids are having an extra rough (taking longer than the allotted 5 minutes to resolve) morning, if the juice cups decide to spontaneously leap from the cupboard as I pull two out, anything.  And in true human condition, I begin to go under and lash out at those around me.  I know it’s not fair.  I know it’s mean.  I know I have issues and I am trying to fix them.

I was an asshole this morning. 

Mr. W and I (well, mostly Mr. W, in his constant effort at making my life easier…and I call him Mr. Wonderful) have been digging ourselves out of a huge laundry pile hill landslide for weeks.  As it stands, we have one more load of dirty (however ever increasing) and about 5 loads of clean to be folded and put away.  I went downstairs after my shower to dig out the shirt I was planning to wear…and couldn’t find it.  Digging further, I found several “hanging” items crumpled in the pile.  Picturing the work ahead, to include mountains of ironing, I freaked a little.  Thankfully the laundry room is in the basement and no one heard.  I walked up the two flights of stairs to find something in my closet, consciously telling myself it’s not anyone’s fault, chill out, don’t freak, calm down…but when I got to our room, he asked, and I…yep, FREAKED.  I tried to explain my frustration with the laundry but it came out all wrong, all yell-y and angry and stuff.  And, really.  Who wants to deal with that first thing in the morning?  He freaked back and walked away*.

Mr. W has been tending to the kids mornings (breakfast, dropping at school/sitter’s, etc) since he’s been back.  When I got downstairs this morning, I’d planned on asking him to get the girl up a little later since she didn’t sleep well last night, but I found the boy sitting on the floor, not eating, not doing anything.  I asked why, and he said Mr. W didn’t give him breakfast.  (Mr. W was no where to be found…although later I would figure out he was in the basement) Assuming (you know what happens when you ass-u-me) he was mad at me and decided to rescind his offers to help me with the kids, I got the girl up (crying because she was tired and didn’t know what was going on) and prepared them to leave.  Then the boy started crying.  He figured out he wasn’t going to be dropped off at school today and was very upset that he had to ride the bus from the sitter’s “with the big kids,” although I’m still not completely sure why.  Anyway, my kids are crying, I’m running even later now, and Mr. W has disappeared.  I saw red.  I blamed him**.  I FREAKED some more. 

I smoked a cigarette to calm my nerves, and decided to go in late so the boy wouldn’t have to ride the bus.  Crying boy: solved.  I sat with the girl and held her long enough for her to wake up and calm down.  Crying girl: solved.  I made breakfast for them, and went to find Mr. W to apologize.  Fighting with lover: not solved!  He cut me off three words into my apology***, and I freaked some more.  I don’t remember everything that was said, only that he sprinkled “I’m just trying to get away from you” into our conversation quite a bit. 

He left without saying good-bye to me (never happened before).  He left without giving me even a look, let alone a hug and kiss (never, ever happened before) even after the girl complained she didn’t get a hug and kiss and he came back for her. 

We aren’t talking now.  Our “family” plans for this weekend are gone.  I don’t know what to do or say at this point and I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and spill one hundred “good-byes” at my feet. 

Why do we lash out at the ones we hold dearest?  Why must they get the best and the worst of us?  “You always hurt the ones you love…” -cliche as ever, but oh so true…

*I really hate when people walk away from me.  Can you say “abandonment issues?”

**Ex#2 was great at shoving all responsibility, for the kids, for the house, for everything back to me when we fought.  He would say it was my problem, so deal with it myself.  My kids were his kids, so I had a right to be mad.  My kids are not Mr. W’s kids, so this familiar scene brought out familiar feelings with no real ground to stand on.  While my heart wanted to blame him for their pain, my mind kept telling me “it really isn’t his problem.  You can’t blame him.”  Internal turmoil = an even worse start to the day!

***I really, really hate when people interrupt me/cut me off.  It has an instant effect.  It sets my blood boiling in my scull and makes my temper flare.  It’s disrespect.  It’s uncaring.  It’s just plain rude!

This entry was posted on Thursday, April 16th, 2009 at 10:08 am and is filed under Family, Mr. W, Relationships, kids, parenting, stress. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.