Sunday, September 28, 2014

I have absolutely no idea the part that John Wayne and his potluck dinner played in the deal

I had one of those dreams Friday night where it ended with locking a kid in a room for the rest of his life and everyone screaming I hate you.  And in the room there were endless amounts of glass doors and windows where he and I could still see out into the world and question my ability to keep him in.   And husband exited one door and I another on the opposite side as big symbolism for the different sides of the situation that we were on in the first place.

And looks like it's just the natural order of things.  Things that cause a mom separation anxiety and fits of jealous rage in her dreams that make it hard to miss that the kids are growing up.  And show that maybe mom isn't ready.  I'm talking about me.  The mom who's spent the years of her kids' lives saying a small one sentence prayer for God to allow me to let go enough - today - the small amount that he needs me to let go and let him guide them into their own.  But dreams, once again, mirrors of the soul, this one a very clean sparkly mirror to show all my fears and insecurities, told me that I hate letting them go.

And words said in the dream hit me hard and made my worries seem bigger than they did yesterday.  Though they already seemed plenty big yesterday.    And though the dream didn't really show a movie of our reality, it got pretty close to resembling it.  This particular dream started out in the front yard with a water hose and lots of togetherness, and a John Wayne sighting next door.  And I asked husband if John Wayne was still alive, ... and apparently he was Friday night, along with his entourage, to gather at the house next door for a potluck.  

And then all Walters hell broke loose and we fell apart.  Which right there, must be the title of this post.  We fell apart.  And I don't want to.  Read that line again,  but put some moaning and tears into it and you might have a true picture of Kristi's state of mind and heart the morning after the dream.  And to soothe myself and calm the nerves, I immediately ate about a million chocolate chips trying to drown my sorrows. With no milk.  Which we were completely out of and I told the kids they had to have either water or wine for breakfast.  Not really -  for my readers questioning my parenting right now.

And the kid in the dream was one I had never actually seen before, but he represented one of mine.  Along with being the poster child for all that is wrong with kids in the world today.... number one, he didn't give a hoot about seeing John Wayne.  And number two, he didn't give a darn about things that matter to his mom.  So in the dream he acted ugly and I sent him to the house of endless exit doors and windows where we had words that escalated into personal reflections of my own insecurity.  Like yesterday when I questioned if my hair is a blonde enough shade of blonde.... Is it Dallas blonde or just regular blonde?  Because in the dream kid told me that I was pretty much a frumpy mom of unacceptable proportion.  And that was below the belt of beauty insults and made my green eyes grow neon with anger and jealousy of blonder and cooler moms.  

So then in the dream I scream my brains out for his daddy to put down the water hose and get in here and fix everything.  But he didn't  - and in fact decided that maybe I was crazy and being a little hard on the kid I've never seen before in real life.  So in the end, husband went out one door, I went out another and we left kid in between hating me and the boxes that I've tried to put around him.

And there were words said that made me get all tangled and sweaty in my sheets.  And I woke with back pain and tension.  And as much as I hated to... I could re-trace the steps of days building up to a fitful night's sleep, and see an exact mirror of events that led to the dream.

Events that include a dad that has worked more hours and shifts than he has in years;  level 1 of my separation anxiety.  Events that include a tired mom that finally hit the wall of exhaustion the night before and was in bed at 8:00 with a book and hope for finally a good night's sleep.  Events that have recently made me doubt myself, and my place, and my importance, and even made my insecurities shine like the clear glass that the dream like prison room for my kid was made of.  

And finally, events that pulled at my heart when a particular kid wanted to do something separate from the family when family time has been at an ultra premium lately.  So all combined, I went to sleep tired.  And woke up realizing that not only am I high strung and a worrier over what should be the natural progression of family relationships, but that I'm obviously not ready for any of it.  And far weaker in spirit and strength than I had hoped.

And as I said before, I've spent years asking God to allow me to let go of these boys little by little as he is ready to introduce my little ones to the world. But my tiredness and busyness and laziness of late have also poured into my prayers.  And it seems I've forgotten to pray for my boys as much.  And I've forgotten to pray for our family as much.  And I've forgotten to trust that our days are already designed perfectly for these boys to grown into their own.

So here's the actual details that inspired the dream...
1.  I have absolutely no idea the part that John Wayne and his potluck dinner played in the deal.
2.  Yes, husband has worked more than ever.  And we obviously need it or he wouldn't do it.  Just gotta do what we gotta do.   
3.  The kid that inspired the events was kid 2 who just wanted to go to his friend's house and watch a Batman movie instead of going to the high school football game with us.
4. And yes, husband did support kid 2 in his wish to do something independent from the family.  And he gave me his best soothing voice and told me how good it is for kid 2 to be branching out like this with friends that we know are safe and good and all that we ever hoped his friends would be. 
5.  And yes, I am unhappy with my hair color.  As I had the gal put lowlights in the color and now I feel drab and dull.  And I much prefer flashy and fabulous.  Like movie star hair. 

So all that put together has put me in a pickle.  Up a tree.  In a predicament of sorts.  A confused state of mind where I'm wishing all our time together hadn't just swooped by so fast.  And wishing that Batman wasn't as much fun as family.  And wishing for a room that I could just shut out the world and the passing time and sit on the couch a little longer in our pajamas.  

But I finish this tonight with kid 1 at a sleepover.  And kid 3 already had a football game, a scout meeting and a friend's birthday party.  Kid 2?  He went back for a little while to the Batman house to party on with the same buddies that got my blood pressure all up in the first place.  

And as I sit here and relay my crazy dreams and deepest feeling to nameless, faceless people out there to read, I'm not sure how I feel.  I feel thankful to have 2 of my little ones here with me and the dog.  I feel like I need to get my hair highlighted asap. And I feel like I'll eventually figure everything out.  And in doing so I'm hoping I never actually lock any child of mine in a room for the rest of his life.  And I'm hoping the words I hate you never cross the lips of anyone named Walters.  And, I'm hoping to get back to praying better and more meaningful prayers that can give me a little more direction than my dreams. 

post script..... Sunday morning... let's see.... I have one kid actually in his room and instructed not to come out.  Maybe never.  And one kid crying over his punishment day of laundry and dusting the house.  And the iPod, XBOX and the like are invisible for atleast today for these raucous 2.   Because - and it was no dream, trust me - all Walters hell did break loose around here this morning.  And there were carpet burns on a face and words that went straight to the heart and to the fists of another.  Which, when I think about it, makes my dream of John Wayne seem pretty tame.  

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