When I was still teaching I drove to work listening to public radio or a station that actually played some music in the morning rather than just the chatter of a couple of idiot DJs or hosts as they like to call themselves. On the way home I listened to nothing and tried to breath deeply while driving. Now when I go to work I listen to public radio or music and often the same on the way home. Perhaps that says something about my job. There is a lot less talking involved and I'm only there for 4 or 5 hours at a time.
Teaching was a very emotionally draining job for me. Maybe emotional isn't the right word. Mentally draining. My current jobs (mortgage assistant, mama, wife, homemaker) aren't as mentally draining but they still take something out of me that only peace and quiet can restore. The things is, though, there isn't a lot of peace and quiet in my day. I'm bombarded for most of the day (while I'm home) with Owen's requests for a playmate (me or someone), food (small but frequent portions) or any number of other things that he can think of from turning on a light because he's scared of the dark (even though the sun is streaming in the window of the room) to wiping his butt (we are working on that!). Then there is the dog. He spent a large part of this morning wandering the house whining because he knew Owen had a PB sandwich and he desperately had to have some of it. I hate whining. From all forms of life. Especially my child and my dog. Eventually I let him go downstairs to sniff out the sandwich remains, that I had hid, until he came to his own conclusion that he wasn't getting the sandwich. That dog eats way too much bread. And anything else he can steal off the table.
It seems that most of my life is spent responding to the needs of others. Child, boss, husband, friends. I get a little overwhelmed by how people don't seem to be able to do things for themselves. Getting dressed, printing documents, finding keys or cell phone. I am by no means perfect but I do pride myself on being able to be mostly self-sufficient. Maybe it's because I don't like to rely on other people. Because I want things done the right way so I figure out how to do them myself. Because I don't like to be at someone's beck and call all the time so I'm not going to do that to someone else. I don't mean to sound heartless. I do help Owen when he needs help but I also want him to know that he can turn on a light on his own. Or that he will, at some future date (but soon), be required to wipe his own butt! And I want Morgan to put things in a place where he can find them so I don't have to be called upon to find them for him. The real issue is that he needs to learn how to actually *look* for things and not just survey the scene.
I feel like a lot of my time is spent with some form of chaos and I don't like chaos. I prefer order. Neatness. No unpleasant surprises. So at night, after O is asleep and Morgan has wandered of to bed to read or sleep I find myself wide awake doing whatever I want. Watching episodes of Mad Men one after the other. Enjoying a much to large dish of ice cream. Surfing the internet for creative inspiration. Reading a book uninterrupted. I love these moments of solitude. I sometimes day dream about them during the day. It's kind of like the carrot that keeps me going. Unfortunately I pay for these late nights the next day. When I can't drag my butt out of bed or get motivated to get anything done.
I'm hoping that once O starts preschool we will find a better balance of all the things our family needs. More playtime and learning for Owen with people his own age. More peace and quiet for me.
I guess this is the nature of an introvert raising an extrovert!
