So I bought the last of the school supplies today, and gave it to my kids. Then I had a meeting, and the sound quality for the meeting was bad. What was worse was the pure wildness, and distraction, and interrupting. We had been having a really good week, where did this behavior come from?
Shool starting. right. We don’t do trransitions well. Uggh!
As the kids escalated, my husband and I, despite our best efforts, escalated too. What, where did that flavor of parenting come from? I have been doing so much better haven’t I? And I know this is not how I want to treat them, I just can’t figure out how.
The more worn I get, the more my nervous system gets antsy-pantsy. Every little touch, every loudly spoken word, every bit of clutter aggrivates my raw inflamed nerves. I am sure that if I could sit and not be bothered for long enough, my adreneline could run it’s course and my body could calm down. The regular waves of banging on my door, all with a crisis of one kind or another doesn’t help.
And then I come face to face with an ugly desire: I wish my body didn’t get antsy-pantsy. I wish I didn’t have to deal with this nervous system. I wish I was like one of “those” women who don’t have ADHD. I think of how THAT would make me a much better person. And then the Uglier desire floats up to the surface: I wish my kids didn’t have antsy-pantsy nervous systems. And I remember that “one of those people” is one of the phrases that pops up when I’m dealing with shame.
“One of those people” is a phrase that means there are good, desirable people to be, and bad, loathesome people to be. It binds the circumstance of a person to their identity – their very being. It says that some people are worth more than others. It lays down a dividing line that says, “people on this side of the line are worth helping, but people on that side of the line are not.” Which is false. If I can help I will. If I can’t then it has nothing to do with being “one of those people”, I just simply can’t. I don’t have to shame myself or others when I truely can’t (because my nervous system has reached it’s limit).
So, you know what? I’m having an antsy-pantsy sort of day. And my kids are too. And we are all worn out. But we are unified by our commitment to try to be loving, and if our attempts are lack-luster, we will try again tomorrow.