Toys covered the living floor like a tornado just emptied all the containers. Layers of winter clothing were everywhere except on their hooks and designated spots.
I asked for help and got a snarky “No” from my eldest child who enjoys pushing my buttons.
I received a directive from my husband to relax, but I was tired of stepping on toys, hoping not to get stabbed by a Lego. Those things hurt.
The dishes filled both sink basins. And my 3-year-old was waking up from a nap, which usually involves an hour of crying and whining about everything.
His older brother loves to agitate him, so as he can into the kitchen half-crying, I took a deep breath.
“What do you want now?” I said in a half calm-half upset voice. I picked him up in a half-baked attempt to calm him.
“Happy,” he said, while burying his head into my yellow tie-dyed shirt.
“Do you want mama to be happy?” I ask as my eyes start to tear up.
He nods in the affirmative.
I pull him close and hug him. We kiss each other on the cheek and hold each other tightly.
Happy on a Sunday is a foreign concept for me. I usually spend it in a cleaning, get-ready-for-the-week frenzy. The kids reluctantly help.
It’s like this almost every weekend. Even if my husband cleaned the night before. There always seems to be a need to get stuff done before Monday, and the school-week begins.
The concept is two-fold for me. I am the Chewbacca of my family, the loyal side-kick who knows when there’s something wrong and can fix most any situation. But when I can’t fix it or I don’t point out that’s something is wrong fast enough, I get called on it.
When I hear “relax,” it doesn’t compute. I remember when my third child was born and they wanted me to relax so they could check my reflexes, I wasn’t able to.
My relaxation is making something, fixing things. If I “relax,” stuff doesn’t get done. And Han Solo and the princess and her brothers act like I let them down.
Of course, when I ask them to do something and it isn’t done, I tend to over-react. My warrior Wookie comes out and I’d tear the Millennium Falcon apart if I hadn’t poured so much effort into it.
Mama Wookies like to party with humans. I like when Han and I work together as a team. I like letting my warrior Wookie out through training and running.
My main obstacle to being happy is not being able to say “That’s enough” and “it’s OK.” I often speak so softly that people can’t hear me. I think it’s a normal tone but it’s not. I need to remind myself that sometimes people can’t hear me. And accept the fact that I need to do what needs to get done. If I have to choose between an extra gold-star item and something I need to do to stay sane, sanity must win every time.
Happiness tastes better than being bitter. As Yoda says anger leads to hate which leads to the Dark Side, and turning against your core values.
There is only do. Now to “do” so I can get my happy on.