Friday, July 12, 2013

The Monster

A monster lives within me, one that feeds on the chaos of overstimulation.  I feel it stirring when the noises have reverberated off the walls of my brain for so long that even the sound of someone biting into a chip in the next room feels like a little earthquake within my head.  The slam, slam, SLAM, BANG of kids parading in and out of the house, or attempting again and again to close the bathroom door without the courtesy of turning the doorknob becomes the soundtrack of my life.  And the questions, the endless questions, and the stories that go on and on but lead nowhere except for the interruptions from someone else chiming in with a different story or an URGENT NEED for a Band-aid or a piece of gum...until I think I might collapse from the weight of it.  The worst is the sound of my own voice, repeating the same instructions and rules again and again..."Do you HEAR me??"

I ask for one moment of peace, some quiet in which to think (but in reality to silence the voices and thoughts bouncing around in there and just be still), only to be asked repeatedly, "Are you done yet?" as if my request had been an inconvenience instead of a necessity.

And the monster roars, ugly, mean, indignant, and leaves tears and shouting and fear in its wake, until I'm reduced to a nasty pile of regret and guilt and failure.  It's out of control, and I wonder if I'll ever patch back together the broken pieces.  I see the brokenness in their faces, hurt masked by defiance, angry words to match mine.  I'm crushed by reprimands from tiny figures that seem to tower over me in my lowness.  It takes tears and time and heartfelt apologizes to win them back, along with promises it won't happen again. And I pray, again and again, that I will be able to keep that promise.


  1. You are definitely not alone.... Every day this week, having returned home from visiting grandparents laden with new piles of birthday presents, which frankly can't be put away because there isn't any ROOM in this TINY, HATEFUL apartment, stepping on Legos everywhere I go, and can you please not fight over EVERYTHING? Until I suddenly scream and announce that I can't take it anymore! Then... that look that they get in their eyes, and the younger one cries, and whether or not I even see the look it is burning a whole in my conscience. I hear the anger in my voice still echoing in my head, and I ask myself "WHY? Why do you yell at your children whom you love?" But I don't entirely know why, and maybe that's why I don't know how to stop. I hate to admit it, but right now, it's best for everyone if the kids go to day camp next week, even though it's the last week before I return to work for the new school year. While they're gone, I'll enjoy the quiet and somehow find places for all those new Legos. And we'll all be a little happier to see each other come pick-up time. Hoping and praying that you find some time for peace and quiet...

  2. Thank you, Julie, for your words and for making me feel a little less crazy. May we both find peace, rest, and quiet, and enough of a break to begin to miss the chaos of ordinary life. Love to you, friend.

  3. This too is my quest. Love more, laugh more, hug more, play more, BREATHE DEEPLY a lot more, get down on my children's level more, make eye contact more, hold hands more, learn to count myself to ten or twenty or three hundred and eighty two more, PRAY a lot more. In other words, I feel ya friend.

  4. Ang, you've been in my thoughts a lot with your move, as if life with kids wasn't crazy enough already. I hope you're finding a new sense of home and peace in the middle of a chaotic time.