tantrum
in my 5 1/2 years of motherhood there have been three times i wanted to walk away. leave my crying children and walk. far far away into deep sleep. wake in land of endless beach and a fine salt mist. wake with a margarita in hand and no responsibilties...
last night was one of them.
we were out on the property and the weather was bad. the girl was hyper. the boy cranky. i yelled and cried. i caused my babies to bawl. i shoved the babe at pat and walked.
into the desert. wind whipping. dust flying. moon shining. carrying me away. it was a painting waiting. a song. a cry. desperation - help me help me. i want to fly away. carry me away. blow me away.
then breathe. just breathe. resist the pull. one step at a time back to my family...
back home i rediscovered the healing effects of a heartfelt apology. a glass of cold wine. a hot bath. a man who loves me despite my tantrum holding me through the night and lending me a bit of strength. a brace against the wind. hold on mountain mama. hold on...
last night was one of them.
we were out on the property and the weather was bad. the girl was hyper. the boy cranky. i yelled and cried. i caused my babies to bawl. i shoved the babe at pat and walked.
into the desert. wind whipping. dust flying. moon shining. carrying me away. it was a painting waiting. a song. a cry. desperation - help me help me. i want to fly away. carry me away. blow me away.
then breathe. just breathe. resist the pull. one step at a time back to my family...
back home i rediscovered the healing effects of a heartfelt apology. a glass of cold wine. a hot bath. a man who loves me despite my tantrum holding me through the night and lending me a bit of strength. a brace against the wind. hold on mountain mama. hold on...
posted by mtnmama at 12:40 PM
3 Comments:
When I get home. . . sums up that sort of thing for me. *hug*
i thought of 'ya-ya' and of the 'Hours' and any number of other portails of such. it's a *sigh*. it's so easy to forget us mamas are people too. tired strung out peoples in need of help now and then and often too proud to ask til it's too late. love love!
the hard experiences are grist for the mill.....your written description was palpable.....mk
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