Monday, February 12, 2007

In a galaxy far, far away . . .

On any personality test that measures how abstract one's thought processes are, mine are always at the far abstract end of the chart. I have heard there's a planet called Earth, I may have visited there once, but I really couldn't tell you how to get there.

So when I read a discussion awhile back about Mommy Time (which is too far lost in archives for me to bother digging up, as usual), one commenter's thoughts really resonated with me--it's not the children themselves an abstract person gets tired of, it's having to be Right Here, Right Now. Little children aren't much for abstract discussions. They're always having their heads bonked, their feelings hurt, and their pants wet, right here in the concrete.

And thus Mama, who only really knows how to live with her head in the clouds, is always being jerked back to earth. Every thirty seconds, all day long. Jerk, jerk, jerk. It hurts. It's tiring. What I need to recover is not necessarily to be away from the children--I do love hearing their happy little voices and watching their little wheels turn--it's being free from the constant barrage of decisions and interventions that small children require, and instead having some time to think. Or read. Or write.

Fortunately DOB is kind and understanding, and although he is abstract enough to listen to me, he's also concrete enough to change lanes safely. Or notice when the squabbles have reached a fever pitch. So yesterday, when he saw I was completely lost in a fairytale, he kindly dealt with as many problems as he could himself, and was remarkably patient with my distraction every time he had to contact me for information.

"Earlier, while you were in Russia . . . " he would explain and update me on what was happening in our little duchy.

I do hope this situation improves as they get a little older and better able to care for their more immediate needs themselves. I'm even hopeful that D1 will continue in her current role as The One Who Knows How It All Should Be Done and thus mediate between my dazedness and subsequent ducklings.

For D2, I'm not so hopeful. I see him pause in his play, a blank expression on his face, as he stares off into the distant galaxies. Before too long, perhaps, he'll talk well enough that we can compare notes.

3 comments:

Ben, Kyri & Rachelle said...

I was trying to explain the emotional/mental energy parenting takes to someone the other day. It isn't even that I need their dad home evenings/weekends for the physical duties, but because I need to not be the responsible adult for some of the falls, the tantrums, the discipline, and all the mental weight those things bring. And breaks for things that used to make me me....Ah, those are good, aren't they? -rlr

Meredith said...

I understand. I can "live in my head" so deeply, it's hard to keep up a conversation all day long.

Rebecca said...

Ah, I think I need to read your blog all the time. :) I am such a concrete thinker that I really feel kinda boring. And like I don't always understand people, although I really want to.

Good insight into why parenting is so mentally exhausting!