...not really, but was most decidedly up to my eyebrows in motherly angst once again this afternoon, and then my mate was disagreeable when he got home, which is just not allowed when I've already been swimming in a sea of disagreeable youngsters all day long...
Luckily it was MY NIGHT which meant I got to escape out the escape hatch and go blow off my woes. A plate of sushi and What It Is by Lynda Barry (which I'm reading in preparation for a zine-making class at Domy Books next week, I can't wait!) and I'm feeling quite nourished and replenished. And ready to do it all over again tomorrow, hopefully with a better attitude. I'm having that feeling, that regretful, melancholy, heart-pinching feeling, where you just want to wake up your children and cuddle them and apologize. Somebody restrain me, don't let me do it! Never wake a sleeping child. I'll just try to carry this tenderness and these good intentions into tomorrow. I'll marinate in loving-kindness all night and be a Buddha-mama all day manana.
1 comment:
watching our sleeping children is to let all our angst and crankiness towards them wash away. Nothing like it!
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