She Just Needs to Be Heard!


The other night I took the time to re-read some of my published words. Some words seemed to come from another world that I had forgotten. Others jarred me back to reality from the fog I have been living in since the positive sign on the pregnancy test changed the course of my life.

I am on a new journey now, albeit reluctantly.

8272758921_df6a8055fe_oI am learning as I go, trying to figure out how to make everything work, how to not let my dreams and hopes be buried yet again under a pile of anger, resentment and responsibility. Trying to work out how all the many pieces are going to fit together in at least some attempt at a coalescing and functional reality.

Most days I just crawl back into bed and try to forget….

My body aches with the exhaustion of figuring it all out so I sleep to forget, to ignore, to pretend that everything will work itself out and that I am strong enough to bear the weight of all the pain, the frustration at yet again re-writing the script of my life, even though deep down I doubt my ability to keep it all together.

Yes, I am working on believing that this pregnancy is happening for a reason, that this baby is an amazing gift to our family but some days I just want my old path back, without the added complications of the needs and space of a new child to worry about. Yes, that’s my inner two-year old throwing a temper tantrum. At the end of the day all my inner two-year-old wants is to be heard. She can’t let go of her anger and frustration until she is heard.

14956794780_c404fa5ec1_oSociety struggles to make space for the real temper tantrums of two-year-olds let alone those of the inner two-year-olds of adults. When our youngest children throw temper tantrums we shame them into behaving or isolate them in time-out corners until they submit to our wishes. What if instead we helped them work through their anger and frustration and just allowed their emotions to be okay? Perhaps there would be less adults running around with repressed inner two-year-olds screaming to be heard. Perhaps there would be less shame around feeling uncomfortable feelings. Perhaps it would be okay to just be angry.

My inner two-year old is refusing to be silenced. She needs to be heard and loved so I can move forward and re-write my script in the best way possible, where I don’t sacrifice all my dreams yet again to the overwhelming needs of my family. Where we find a better balance for everyone with what we have in the place we are right now instead of always believing that when we have more money or when we have a bigger house or when the basement is cleaned up or when my 18-year-old goes to treatment and gets better, that then we’ll be able to work everything out and make our dreams a reality.

Even if all that was achieved, there is always another hurdle, another excuse….

So let me let my inner two-year old out to throw her temper tantrum. Let her stomp, scream and cry. When she’s done, just hold us, love us and help us figure out our way forward

If you make space for my two-year old, I will make space for yours….

I Hold Your Anger Ever So Close

A dialogue with my inner two-year-old


7473064878_9df4de6a00_o2 yo: Look at me. Listen to me.

Me: No. You need to listen to me. I don’t have time to deal with this now.

2 yo: (louder) Look at me. Listen to me. (Stomps foot)

Me: Listen here, I am in charge. We have to grow up. I have things I need to do, places to be. Expectations to fill. You don’t understand so just stop this and come along. Maybe later we can talk…

2 yo: NOW! NOW! NOW! (getting louder)

Me: You’re being ridiculous and stubborn. People are watching. You’re making a fool of me. Now just calm down, we’ll talk later, I promise.

2 yo: You always say that. You never do. (sits down, crosses arms) I’m not moving.

Me: Oh damn it all! I don’t have time for this. (grabs hand to start dragging her along)

2 yo: (screaming) Let go! You are hurting me!

Me: No, I’m not. If you’d just listen I wouldn’t have to drag you. You’re just being a stupid little girl. You have no idea about real life and responsibilities. I do, and life just sucks sometimes. It isn’t fair.

2 yo: (crying harder, whimpering) You’re hurting me, stop…

Me: (screaming) Oh just grow up will you!

2 yo: (whimpering) No. I just want you to listen to me.

Me: Oh go to your room! You can come out when you are ready to cooperate.

2 yo slinks back to the dark recesses of my soul. I can still hear her whimpering and sobbing. I carry that weight with me everywhere I go. It drags me down. Every once and awhile she comes out again, trying to get me to listen but I am too busy, too proud, too wounded to hear.

I think it’s time to listen and to be heard…

I threw a temper tantrum today…..


… and I’m not proud of myself.

My thoughts are very dark, very angry.  The lid came off.  I dropped all the balls I’ve tried so hard to keep in the air and going round and round….

Maybe it was the car accident this weekend that’s put me on edge…. More than I’m admitting too.  I’m trying very hard to stay positive.  I’m not hurt, the kids weren’t with me, etc…. But it’s hard not to be affected by it somehow, the process is stressful, physically hurt or not.

I just wanted some help today from my teenager who is off over the exam break.  I even gave him a warning last night before we went to bed that I would be needing his help today.  That I wanted to tackle a job or two that I could use his help with.  They weren’t crazy, difficult jobs.  Just helping me move boxes around and maybe do some dishes.  He’s the first one to complain at the constant disorder of the house, but when I ask for help, it’s not easy getting any, and he’s not the only one who is hard to get motivated.

I started asking him to get up about 10 am, at 1pm he was still in bed.  I called him multiple times, I tried to entice him with food, I nagged and finally, I just lost it.  I said some things I shouldn’t have, my anger spilled over and I became very ugly.  I even kicked an empty cardboard box down the stairs.

What made it worse? My three-year old started yelling at me, feeding me back the same anger I was dishing out.  He was just imitating me… It was very hard being on the receiving end of it.

So then there were tears.  Body shaking, hot, angry, painful tears…

I hid in my room away from my three-year old so he wouldn’t see it.  Only the dog was there, and I’m not sure she even knew what to make of it.  I don’t cry.

I texted my husband and let him know what had happened.  He’s the one who is supposed to lose his cool, and I’m the one that’s supposed to do the patching up.  Who does the patching up when I lose my cool?

Right now, I’m not ready to apologize for my anger.  I’m just sitting with it.  If there’s anything I could use, it’s someone to make me a cup of tea….

If there’s anything I could use, it’s someone to make me a cup of tea….

Earl Grey, two sugars, please… And yes, leave the teabag in!