It's 11:30, and I'm totally not really awake yet. Despite my efforts (giving my two-year old the purple stuff that he's not supposed to have until he's four -- but what do you do when you want your congested and coughing tot to sleep so you can sleep and your pediatrician has already prescribed something extremely similar previously -- so much for doing things the natural way -- wow, I'm totally defensive about my parenting -- anyway), Tot woke up at 6am and kept me awake until 8, then we let him watch a movie while we slept, then finally AL got up with him so I could sleep until 10:30, and I'm still completely exhausted. As you can probably tell from some of our parenting choices, we're totally overwhelmed right now. I pretty much feel like a terrible parent, but I hope our choices are defensible in that put-the-oxygen-mask-on-yourself-first way. Also, I suppose Tot will not be forever scarred by watching Elmo in Grouchland in his playpen.
Also, I just feel a bit defensive in general. I don't get much time for myself. Why when I'm at work and supposed to be grading do I end up surfing the web looking at your blogs and get so behind? Because I don't get much time for me in my life, and I'm a person who needs a lot of alone time. Just to figure out my muddled thoughts. Just to figure me out, because I am moody and volatile -- pretty much, by nature. So I've already told AL that I'm staking the claim for more me time -- so that I'll be a better parent, a better partner, a better professor.
On that front, I'm delighted to tell you that I actually called and made an appointment with a therapist. Yay! Huzzah! I have issues, dude. And I need to work them out. I need to work on my anger management. I also need to work out big issues from my childhood and how this affects my perspective on things. It bothers me how many times I've been over the same territory, but I think I figured out the other day that it's just never over. It's never just finally done with. I want it to be done and worked out and never have to think about it again because I'm okay and well and the trauma is over, but perhaps it's just never over. For years and years and years I've figured there has to be something wrong with me medically because I'm so volatile and sensitive -- or maybe I have ADD, or I'm bipolar or whatever. Maybe I just have PTSD. I don't know. But I want to be a better less volatile parent -- and if love of myself and my friends has never provided the kick in the ass I needed, well, finding myself screaming at my kid because he's doing kid things, well, I'm sure that other parents have screamed at their kids in bad moments and I'm pretty sure Tot won't be permanently scarred, but I refuse to be my mother and I really do love Tot more than anyone else in the world and he fucking deserves better, so I'm going to therapy.
Well, obviously I needed to say all that. I had a very bad Thursday where I basically showed up near-tears in my best faculty friend's office. And I haven't even had time to reflect on it or write about it or anything because that's the way my life is. Errgh.
But the near impossible thing I simply must do is try to grade. Tot is taking a very early nap, which means I've got to hop-to and get some grading done -- since I spent Thursday focusing on me things instead of grading and now I'm behind. (I hate that. There's no time for me in my day. I go straight from Professor Earnest to Mommy to a smidgeon of time if I'm lucky between Mommy and bed.)
Anyhoo, I've got to find my Professor hat and work on these projects. Gah. But I'm glad I'm managed to tell y'all that I finally am making some great strides toward this year's goals of health and peace.