It was a tough weekend at the Lanthier house. While there were a couple highlights – a great playdate with an old school friend, hike in High Park, dinner with friends – the majority of this weekend sucked.
Can I say this without getting reported to CAS? He was an a$$hole. Rude; talking back; not listening. I said black and he said white. It reached it’s apex yesterday. We left an Easter Party early because I was tired of his rudeness. He was less than impressed. When I turned to look at him – he had undone his car seat and was shrieking ‘TAKE ME BACK NOW’ at the top of his lungs. I pulled over in a parking lot. Locked the door. And walked away. I sat on a curb in view of the car, cried a bit, took many deep breaths and regrouped.
When we got home, facepaint from one end of him to the other, swollen eyes from crying, I banished him to the basement. I made a tea and sat and thought. What the hell was causing this? Who is this kid? And I recognized a common thread with us. When mom is miserable – Will is miserable.
What was up with me? I felt alone this weekend. Will has been big on the ‘I want a brother, sister and a Dad’ lately. Who can blame him? I had all of these things. Yesterday morning after we were done our hunt, both my neighbours started theirs. Both outside, so I watched. Dad filming – mom leading the brothers around doing their hunts. It was like a Norman Rockwell painting. I felt a pit in my stomach and tears welled in my eyes. I felt alone. I’ll admit it – there are days when I wish our family was traditional. I wish I had a partner and I wish Will had siblings. I fought the urge to chug a beer…and instead had a third coffee and a few deep breaths.
Later in the day, we went to this Easter party. A kabillion well dressed, happy families sauntering around The Granite Club. I was sullen. Will was miserable. I silently wished the donkey in the petting zoo would knock one of these happy moms down with his back legs – just for the excitement and distraction.
What was I really wishing for? I wanted to drive to my mom’s. I wanted to walk in the door and smell her turkey cooking. I wanted to hug her and say how Will was driving me insane and ask her for help of how the hell to deal with him. I wanted to hear her yell at the Masters. I just wanted her.
Once I allowed myself to admit that’s what was going on, I sucked it up and took the boy out of exile. We walked to the lake and took it in. We watched the Masters (well I did). And when I put him in the tub, I went into my memory box where I have an old unwashed shirt of my mom’s and I breathed her in.
It’s been eleven years. Eleven years and sometime it feels like the scab is being ripped off all over again. I never know when or what will set it off. But time helps you learn that the scab will heal quickly.
Before Will went to sleep, I hugged him and said sorry for being so awful all day. He said ‘sorry for being so rude.’ Then, as crazy as this sounds, he said ‘it’s just you and me mommy’ and gave me his patented koala hug. And I knew – I may feel alone sometimes…but I never really am.
*This picture is from our last Easter together.
How did I miss this perfect Sara post? Oh boy I know these feelings and I feel them at times on Sunday afternoons and over holidays. I know you know this but all those shiny happy people aren’t all shiny happy people even if they look real good, smell good and drive clean expensive cars.
Your mom would be so proud of you. And I love the way you handled ALL of this with Will. You are brilliant. xxxx
Thanks so much Amreen…. I too find my birthday SO hard. I think it’s because I think of how I am on Will’s birthday – reflecting on how he came into this world etc – and it just feels like the woman who brought us life should be there to celebrate it. Happy 40th my friend….x
This post really hit home, Sara. That deep, searing longing for my mother is still there raging inside of me after 11.5 years. It manifests at weird times -most recently on the morning of my fortieth birthday, so much so that i could do nothing all morning but cry in a fetal position in my bed. My husband thought it was bc i was turning 40, but that nothing to do with it. it was because, every year, on my birthday, i realise – so painfully – that i’ve endured another year without her. Hugs to you and kudos on being such a loving, real and self-aware mom to Will.
Thanks SO much Susie for this….I’m really trying…..I recognize that if every mother lost it because her kid was being a kid…we’d all be loonie…I know there’s more to it.
My favourite thing about this post Sara is that you took the time to work through what was really bothering you. Not that Will’s behaviour surely wasn’t bothering you, but you were willing to dig deep to see what might be bringing you down. That is the most amazing role modeling you can do for Will. Finding your feelings, owning your feelings, and then speaking them (or writing them) — and then you set them free and you rest a tiny bit easier and maybe you recognize a next time when the scab’s about to come off; or you heal it a little bit sooner. Teach Will to stop and think what’s behind his emotions, too.
tears! Such an honest post. You and Will make the perfect family. No matter what size or shape a family takes, we all have those days. So sorry about your mama….I can only imagine how much she is missed.
Hugs Sara. I don’t really have any words of wisdom, just hugs.
Dude, I all but ran away from home last week… full moon? Yes, perhaps.
Sorry you’ve been feeling a bit blue – it never helps when our kids act like jerks. Le sigh. I hear you, Brave Woman. I hug you. xoxoxox
Thanks so much you guys – you’re awesome. Jen, I relate to SO much you had to say – so much. I would love to just have a regular family traditional dinner on one of these holidays. I think I’m realizing how much I miss those. We just don’t have them anymore. My dad’s not interested and everyone is sort of doing their own things. I wonder what it was this year because I found this holiday the hardest in years as well….full moon? I don’t know. But thanks everyone… and Lori – he was a total a$$hole – If I ever stop telling it like it is – kick me in the ass.
I’ve had this same experience, feeling sad and down for no reason I can easily discern … and then realizing it’s me missing my mom. Sorry you had some sad and hard times this weekend.
Wish we could be there for you more Sara
Our family could use a little shaking up.
Toran would be so great with Will. Take
care. Thinking of you.
I’m sorry to hear how blue you were this weekend, Sara. And I’m so impressed by your ability to sit back and figure out the cause. I’m so proud of you for telling it like it is…i.e. kids who we would die for can also be a$$holes
Sara,
What a moving post. I cried as I read it. I’m home alone today, hoping to do some work, but can’t seem to get out of my head. It’s all too much sometimes. But you are so strong, and you are an incredible inspiration.
Thank you for sharing your life.
Love,
Kaybee.
Oh, Sara. I really, really wanted my mom this weekend too. I don’t know what it was but I found this the hardest holiday in the nearly 3 years since we lost her. I wanted someone else to host Easter dinner (or at least care as much as I did). I wanted someone to focus on all of the grandchildren (my 2 and my sister’s 2 little ones) like there was nothing else in the world as amazing (even the Masters!). And I wanted someone to walk in the door and hug me in a way that said “you will always be my little girl.” Sometimes I just need that.
The hardest part for me is that my dad is here and he seems less and less interested in maintaining those things that were important to her. He becomes more stuck in his ways and self-absorbed. I want a PARENT not some curmudgeonly old man hanging around demanding stuff. I love him but this makes me miss her even more.
Sometimes I just don’t want to be the grown-up. I want to be her little girl.
Thanks for posting this. It helped me figure out what was going on with me too.
ohhhh,..crycrycry…gotta wipe the eyes before the girls come down! now…_you_ need a hug ~~~~~~~~~~~~ and just so you know, you did nothing that none of us (probably!) wouldn’t have done. i can’t even begin to understand missing your mom like that. mine lives only 45 minutes away and sometimes i think that’s too far.
don’t stress over the norman rockwell moment…trust me on this. that’s 5 minutes of bliss that you saw. i’m sure there was mucho whining and freaking out and bad manners before and after what you saw 😉