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"The beauty of the world . . .
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. . . has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder." -Virginia Woolf, A Room of One's Own
It's official. I'm only coming back to my sister's house under duress. This trip has reminded me that those misgivings I have every time I plan to come over here are REAL. Seriously, every time I come here, I regret it.
The kids can be great, and they can be hell. They've learned every way to push the parental buttons, and watching the interactions is like pediatric Jerry Springer or something. I don't have to give up three or four days to participate in what amounts to either Scout-basing, kid-bashing, or both. The husband-unit is often gone for days at a time for work, and I imagine my sister will be happy to have some help. I child-wrangle. I cook. I help organize the mud room. I go to the store, to pick the kids up from school, to take the kids somewhere. These are enjoyable things to me. But, in general, I just don't want to entertain this.
Yeah, I'm in it right now and I'm feeling trapped. But I remember that I came here yet again, despite my strong feelings of dread. I have a tenacious faith that things will be better, will change, but I am proven wrong every time.
It was Einstein, I believe, who said that insanity was trying the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.
Point taken.
It's official. I'm only coming back to my sister's house under duress. This trip has reminded me that those misgivings I have every time I plan to come over here are REAL. Seriously, every time I come here, I regret it.
The kids can be great, and they can be hell. They've learned every way to push the parental buttons, and watching the interactions is like pediatric Jerry Springer or something. I don't have to give up three or four days to participate in what amounts to either Scout-basing, kid-bashing, or both. The husband-unit is often gone for days at a time for work, and I imagine my sister will be happy to have some help. I child-wrangle. I cook. I help organize the mud room. I go to the store, to pick the kids up from school, to take the kids somewhere. These are enjoyable things to me. But, in general, I just don't want to entertain this.
Yeah, I'm in it right now and I'm feeling trapped. But I remember that I came here yet again, despite my strong feelings of dread. I have a tenacious faith that things will be better, will change, but I am proven wrong every time.
It was Einstein, I believe, who said that insanity was trying the same thing over and over again, expecting different results.
Point taken.
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