Emotions are messy

I love being a mom. I love that The Minion wants to be right on top of me, all the time. Because I know that means that he feels safe with me, and likes being with me. I even don’t mind, usually, that I have a husband that works six days a week and is a musician, so his free time is limited. Most of the time I am even okay with the fact that I have no backup, besides him. I am the primary, go-to-gal for all thinks kid related. It’s just me. Everyone I trust, really trust, to watch The Minion has jobs and kids and lives of their own. There is no one that I can just call up spur of the moment and say, “Hey, could you watch him for a couple of hours while I go do _________?”

And usually, that’s okay. But sometimes, I just want a break. I just want to be free of the responsibility, just for a while. To be able to just get in the car and go. Doesn’t really matter where. The grocery store, to get a new pair of shoes, anywhere. Just as long as it is by myself and I can just do what I need to do without any other distractions or responsibilities hanging over my head.

But that’s not the way it is. And I am okay with that. Most days.

But then there are days like today.

I have a fancy wedding to go to very soon. And I need something to wear. Clothes are not something I enjoy. I am not into fashion. I wear it because it’s practical and functional. But clothes bring me no joy. Shopping for clothes is traumatic in and of itself. I do not like to shop for clothes. I do not like about 98% of what I find in a store. I don’t like the styles, the colors, the patterns. I don’t like dresses, feel uncomfortable even in long skirts. Don’t do sleeveless, or sparkly, or striped. No bold patters and designs. Pretty much, give me all black or dark plain things and I am good. And, because I am not a small girl, my choices are already limited. I can’t just walk into any store and grab something off a rack and have it be okay. It’s frustrating and stressful and I hate it. But, I have to have something to wear, so I have to shop. And you wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to find something … just one damn thing … that I can tolerate.

I don’t shop often. I HATE it. And if I find something I like, then I will wear it until it falls apart. I have some things, but I have actually gained a whole size in the past year, so none of the things I have even fit anymore. And that just adds a whole 'nother layer of ick to the situation.

So … let’s make a wretched situation even more terrible by dragging a kid along. A kid who is already not happy to be drug around from store to store, and even less pleased that it’s store after store of clothing with nothing to interest him at all. Sure, he has his game thing with him, but come on. I am miserable with this endeavor, I can’t expect that he would be any more thrilled about it. I don’t blame him.

Long story short -- I have exactly a week to find an outfit and so far nothing. Nothing fits right, nothing is what I want. Except I don’t even know what that is. I am upset and stressed and I just want to run away. Just get in the car and drive until I decide to stop. Alone. Blessedly alone. With no one asking me questions, No one saying “Mama, I want to go. Mama, carry me. Mama, when will you be done?”

More than anything, I want freedom. I want to escape my life.

And then the crushing guilt hits. Because my life is pretty great. I have a husband that I am still crazy about, even after 20 years. And even though he exasperates me and makes me nuts, there’s nothing better than being with him. I have a nice house. A good job. A wonderful family. And I have The Minion. This cute, smart, funny, crazy kid that loves me more than anything on this Earth. Who wants to be attached to my hip 24/7. Who doesn’t want me out of his sight, not even for a minute. Who is growing up way to fast, and way too soon will not want to be seen in public with me. I am so very lucky. And yet, some days … like today … I just want to escape. To be anywhere but here. To be FREE.

So, after another store of finding not a single thing that pleases me, of feeling helpless and hopeless and totally overwhelmed, I say I am done, and I take us to the car to come home. I can’t do it. I can’t look for clothes - when I hate everything I see - and keep track of him, and listen to him ask me a million questions, and try to just freaking think. And then the tears come. And then the sobs. It’s an ugly cry. A snotty, headache inducing mess. All while I am driving home.

Home.

The place I go to escape. The place I want to escape from. My safe haven, and also the place keeping me tethered to this anguished mental place I want so desperately to flee from.

So we go home. And still I sob. It’s like, once the floodgates have opened, I can’t stop it. I don’t even know exactly why I am crying. Am I angry or sad, or stressed or losing my damn mind? Do I just need a break, or is this the start of some sort of downward spiral? It’s on a day like this that I am grateful that alcohol holds no allure for me. Because at this moment, I can see having a drink, and another, and another, and another, until I can make it all go away.

I instinctively head to the bedroom, thinking I will curl up on the bed and finish my pathetic sobbing breakdown, maybe - if I am lucky - fall asleep, and wake up in a better frame of mind. In that moment, what The Minion will do during this time is not my concern. He knows how to get snacks and turn on the TV. We are at home. He will be okay. I just want the escape of silence and sleep in my safe space.

Except, I have to pee first. And when I come out, there he is. Curled up on the bed. In my spot. With the TV on. No relief there. Still the crying comes. Can’t stop it now. I can feel my eyes puffing up. My head stopping up. I know the headache is going to follow soon. But I can’t stop it now. I’m too far in.

So, I head to the living room. I go to curl up on the couch. I just want to curl up and cry. Except I can’t. Because The Minion has followed me. He’s right next to me. On the pile of pillows, in my space. I say, “I don’t want you on me”. And he says he isn’t. I scoot over and lay in the other direction, away from him. I just want some space of my own. And the sobbing starts again. What the hell is wrong with me?! I am angry. And sad. And frustrated. Anguish is a word that comes to mind.

And then, there he is. Squishing in behind me. I feel his little hand patting my back. The one thing I wanted to get away from is the one thing that makes me feel better. I get up and blow my nose. The headache is here now, full force, so that won’t really help, but maybe it will relieve a little bit of the pressure. My eyes feel like hot sandpaper.

So … here I am. I sit down at the computer, open a word document, and start typing. No thought process, just an emotional purge. There are still tears, but no more sobbing. The Minion gets his crayons and sits in the floor coloring across the room. Quietly.

Then he comes over here to where I am sitting, typing. And he asks me if he can watch Star Wars. And that does it. I turn around and say, “Come here”, and open my arms. He crawls up into my lap. I hug him tightly and tell him I love him. In a whisper, but fiercely.

And he says, “I am sorry I made you sad, Mama.”

I hug him tighter and tell him it isn’t him. And he whispers back, “Who is it?”

Completely emotionally undone. Those three little words just broke me. So, I said the only thing I could say.

“It’s me, baby.”

And then I blew my nose again, started a cup of tea, and put in Star Wars.

I still need an outfit. I still want a few hours to myself, to shop in relative peace (and anxiety). And maybe, when POF gets home from work, I will ask him to keep an eye on The Minion so I can run out for a while and get shit done. But I don’t feel trapped anymore. I don’t long to escape. I want nothing more than to cuddle that adorable little boy on the couch and watch Luke meet Obi Wan and Han Solo and save the galaxy. I still have a headache. But my soul sure feels better.

I still want “me time”. But right now, what I need is Minion Time. So that’s where I am headed. Thankful. Grateful. Lucky. Maybe no happy, not right at this second. But definitely content.

There’s no place like home