It’s Nearly Next Year

I had a meltdown today.   I won't go into the details, because it is never pretty hearing about a full grown, middle-aged woman having a meltdown, but it happened and now it's over.   I don't get it, we're at home, spending no time out, not seeing friends, school is out, life is simpler...only it doesn't seem to be.   I would expect to have more time, not less.   But every week seems busier than the last.   And today, for the umteenth day in a row, I planed on having a day where I could relax, work on 3D printing and for lack of a better phrase, "just do nothing."

Only it didn't happen that way.   And to be fair, I'm complaining and have very little right to because there are people who have bills to pay with no jobs or have jobs and can't take care of their children who need care or have many other things in their lives that give them even less free time than I have.   That being said, I still wanted to have a "me" day.   And it wasn't happening. 

My daughter kicked it off—the tantrum—or did I say meltdown?  Either way, I behaved in an undignified manner befitting of a fifty-year-old mother of two.   My daughter just would not leave me alone.   She had questions, wanted to be where I was, including following me into the closet.   I was trying to think and asked if I could have a few minutes of time and I'd be glad to help her out with anything if she could give me a few minutes.   Sure, she'd just be right there and wouldn't talk (she can't not talk.)  Then she was going to be just in the next room, then she was going to just be on the bed.    It was hours after morning had started and I wanted a few minutes to myself, not helping her with things, not feeding the dog, not cleaning up things, not making a list of all the things that had to get done during the day, and trying to figure out if I could get them all done—just five minutes.  

So I snapped at her.   I told her to leave.   I had been asking her not to wake her father up for several hours and she just doesn't get not waking people up.   At all.  Some days.  Her father got up at this point and I lost it, yelling out all my frustrations about how I had twenty-eight text messages, some from people I hadn't responded to in two days because I needed to respond properly and do some research before I could get back to them.   Emails?  I haven't opened email in two weeks.    And yes, I've done some 3D printing, but the printers have been more idle than active. 

Anyways, today was going to be my day.   After yelling about my frustrations I went to apologize to my daughter.  I wasn't yelling at my husband so much as yelling and having him listen to me.   He is great at listening.   She was in her room and she wasn't even upset.  She told me today was going to be my day.  She is a very kind and understanding child.   

She and I talked about how frustrating it was because she had no friends to play with.  The two friends she socially distance plays with were also isolating like we were so they could see family for Christmas.   But in the next few days, we talked, things would be different and both she and her friends could play again.  

I did get some time today, but I had to take a nap or I wasn't going to be able to make it until midnight tonight.   Which happens to be in twenty-five minutes.   We're going outside to see the light show my husband has made to go on the front of the house with the projector he's been using.   We're going to take out the reusable glow stick flashlight combos Uncle Bob and Uncle Brian sent for Christmas.   It's raining, but it should be fun to be out in the crisp night air for the start of the new year. 

The Big Boy Update:  My son's computer repair had another hiccup and he won't have it back until the weekend.   He was very understanding when his father told him about it.   He's rediscovered other means of screens he hasn't been interested in for a while since he got the computer and began playing Minecraft on it. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I wasn't the only one to have a meltdown today.   My daughter came downstairs to play the piano and ran into a chair.   A chair that was in the same place it always is.   We try to keep the house in as static a configuration as possible for her because it hurts to run into things all the time.   She yelled that she hated the chair and she hated our house and ran off upstairs crying.   I found her at the ice machine, scraping the ice away from the heat sensor with the scoop so that it would kick off new ice to be made.   She loves the fresh ice that comes out about two minutes later and catches it as it falls out of the augered hole.  I told her she could always yell if she was angry about being blind in the house here. She could get mad and get her feelings out.   It was okay to be angry.  It wasn't fair that she was blind and that I was angry too, I told her.   She hugged me and we talked for a while.   She was better after the outburst, but it still hurts, knowing she'll never be able to do things everyone else does with ease.