BattleField
The battle begins at the strike of daylight. Her eyes open and chaos starts. crashing booms of unsettled anxiety between the both of us encourages the rush of fiery flame to burn everything to the ground. Leaving nothing untouched and the remanence of a scorched battlefield waiting for the rain to come in and begin healing the land.
Her relentless attitude, back talk and complete ability to cut out the sound of my pleading voice shatters all hope of sanity against my battle armor with her dull, double-edged sword. While it may not cut, it lights the fire beneath my furnace to an instant irritation and rage. And so, sets the day for overwhelming battle.
The lying!
"I don't have food" she says as she clenches her granola bar between her hands.
“Food stays in the kitchen!” I reply, trying to remain as calm as mentally possible. She is controlling, demanding, rude, deviant, and has the mentality of spoilt rotten brat! How did I influence this type of behavior?
While I love my children more than life itself, they are a mental overload! It takes a very strong mentally willed individual to care for a child, especially when they are as high strung emotionally as myself.
I see my attitude as her body, neck and facial expressions exhibit every bit of attitude I expel.
I see my boiling rage spewing from the enclosed lid atop the pot set on the unattended burner.
She witnessed this side of me more than any other side I have. She watched me stomp in frustration, slam cupboard doors. She would listen to me hiss the most angry "demonic" types of growls as I attempted to let the steam and built up rage escape without destruction.
While I knew she was consuming all of these energies from me, I was unaware how much destruction I was actually causing. Only for the fact that it did not show up until later in life. The aftermath of an intense thunder storm. Loud and chaotic in the midst of it all, but once the clouds clear and the sun shines you can see the fallen tree limbs crushing unfortunate cars below. The roof of nearby buildings concaved and shingles thrown for miles around.
I was the storm and this is my aftermath. A daughter with no self-control, much like myself. Who has anger problems and an attitude that could knock the unaware devil off his feet.
However, here is to the journey of recovery ahead. The uphill battle that I will be trudging through to clean up the mess I caused! Learning to heal my own wounds while tending to those of my children!
Learning through playtime and games, individual time with each child to build a connection, and most importantly, self-improvement to show them I have gained control over my own emotional impulses, and that they are no longer being met with a brick wall, but a soft, loving and cushioning mother who shows them how much they mean to her!
Afterall, they are my saving grace, my everything that I live for. They are the massive boulder holding me to this side of the ever-green earth. So here is to starting a new, clearing the disease of unaware and lack of self-control. Here is to being a more present mother who is more attentive to the needs of her children. Emotional, mental, physical and social needs. Here is to bettering me for my children, as well as myself. We all deserve the calm after a storm. For our battle armor to shed from our tense bodies, exhausted from constant chaos.