All day I was thinking about how I was going to write today's post about Giving Tuesday and the importance of community service and voluntarism. Yet here I sit to finally write and I'm all out of love.
So here's the deal: the children took everything I had to give today. And maybe then some. I may have muttered things about my kids that I don't really mean, but are nevertheless true. Like, things you don't think moms have the capacity to think about their spawn because feelings and hormones and bonds.
But I thought them and felt them and meant them. And of course I harbor guilt about it because moms aren't supposed to be, you know, human when it comes to her children, right? They are supposed to be superhuman, right? Always showering her progeny with love despite their foibles, defects, and peculiarities.
All I seem to be able to deliver are my own foibles, defects, and peculiarities in spades. As lovingly as my yelling can get.
So I wonder if I feel as I do because I see these flaws reflected back at me in my kids. And I think, "omg, what have I done?!" But at the same time, I wonder in earnest: "who are you and where did you come from?!" Because there is so much that I also don't recognize as me.
Never in my wildest dreams did I think that raising kids would be so damned adversarial. Man vs. Man (or kid, whatever); Man vs. Self; Man vs. Nature. Man vs. Dinner and Laundry and Bedtime.
So tonight, I gave up a little. Because I had nothing left to give. Sometimes I even wonder if that's not at the heart of my problem: that I don't give up enough.
I guess I'll have to give it another go tomorrow.