As I Run Screaming

My brain imploded on Friday afternoon. The outward symptoms were my grabbing the kids and running, silently howling, from an afternoon playdate at the park.

I bolted because I collapsed under the stress of tiredness, sadness, and self-pity. Fucking pathetic, but true.

The traveling, parent-hosting, and Leelo wee hours fiestas of the past few weeks have decimated my mental and physical energy. Example: I had two much-appreciated dinner dates with my book this week, and both times fell asleep in the middle of my meal. (Upon hearing of the second incident, Iz chirped, "Did you drop your book in the sauce again?")

I am wiped. Verging on narcoleptic. Afraid to sit on comfy couches in the afternoon. Bobble-heading during sermons as provocative and mind-routing as this morning's electric riff on racism.

Part of my problem is the gestating; the rest of it will wear off as I wedge myself back into a routine. But in the meantime I am weak, small, and unable to bear daily petty lamenesses.

Like those of a random mom at the park from which I fled. Not our regular park, no--a park in Santa Carlotta. A town whose borders I rarely breach, because I hate its pod people majority, their oppressive manicured brittle-cheerfulness, and the delusional, self-righteous bubbles of small-scale privilege in which they encase themselves.

Back to the random mom. In my opinion, it is perfectly acceptable for strangers like her to pinch-hit parent for Iz if I'm not available. But there are tacit rules. The main ones being, again in my opinion, that a person does so using a nice but firm voice, and avoids making snap judgments when information is lacking.

I'm sure that bitch was tired from dealing with both an infant and her whiny baby monkey of a daughter. But that does not excuse her from jumping all over Iz in snarky vengeance mode just because Iz happened to be at the top of a ladder when her daughter decided, after several minutes of wailing and hanging off the side of said ladder, that she wanted to go up and couldn't because Iz was standing there.

This was a rare instance in which I was actually watching Iz the whole time, as Leelo was stuck in a loop, obsessively running back and forth across a jangly suspension bridge (whiny baby monkey: "It's too loud! Mommy! MOMMMMY!") and didn't need all my attention. So I knew that bitch had no right to yell at my kid. But, as Iz didn't seem particularly offended, I didn't lash back--that's not our best playground behavior. Instead I inched closer to my mental precipice.

Then I stepped off. I spiraled. I wondered what the fuck I was doing at the park after already running the kids through several play time hoops that same afternoon. I got pissy about being Leelo's mom, about never, ever, ever being able to take my eyes off him in public places, and how fucked it is that this won't change for a good long time--certainly not by the time this new baby arrives. I brooded about unfair it is to everyone else that I can't properly watch Iz 90% of the time if Leelo is around. I whined to myself about how desperately I wanted to be like all the other parents and plop my butt on a bench instead of running or standing the whole time (this is not entirely fair, but I was not entirely rational).

Then Iz made a minor transgression and I flipped and used that as an excuse and we left. And now you know why.


Iz herself is mostly okay with losing her great-grandmother. I told her a few days ago when we were behind our garage picking blackberries, basically saying that her GG unfortunately didn't get better, and instead died, and that meant that we wouldn't get to see her any more. Iz sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, then sniffed, then asked where her GG's headstone was. I told her that her GG was getting cremated, which fascinated her and made for an distracting tangent.

Iz still stops every now and then, remembers that her GG's gone, and gets weepy. Just now she called me into her room to wind up the musical bear her GG gave her. She says she wants to hear the music play for a long time so she can think about her GG, and feel better.

I think we are all feeling better today. Iz and Seymour had a fabulous time at last night's Casa Ocultada Star Party, and spent all morning chattering about the relative sizes of stellar bodies. I somehow manage to conjure up a delicious trifle, and we got to devour it during a lazy-dazy foodie-crazy afternoon at KV and PV's house. Leelo had been refusing to use "yes" for preferences yesterday, but today is back to using it correctly so I am no longer spazzing on that issue (it must have been the concentrated dairy in that yogurt he loves so! Aiiigh!).

Everything seems to have realigned.

P.S. The Leelo's Day article hasn't run yet. Maybe it'll be in tomorrow's (Monday's) paper. My OB checkup was peachy and all of five minutes long. And my ultrasound won't happen for another week because I need a referral from the HMO.

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