The Good Times Are Killing Me

The title of this thread comes from a Modest Mouse song. And the reason I was listening to Modest Mouse recently (I really like Modest Mouse but don't tend to listen to music in the car since if the girls are with me, there's too much chatter, and if I'm by myself, I am listening to an audiobook) is because Sadie pulled their CD from the shelf on Friday and insisted on listening to it in the car. I figured she'd forget, but the minute we were in the car, she screamed, "Hey, you forgot to put Modest Mouse in!" So I did. Within seconds, Sadie was singing some made-up song about "enchanting" something or other so loudly that she completely drowned out Modest Mouse. I'm not sure if this was her way of "singing along" or if it was a testament to the fact that she strongly dislikes Modest Mouse.

In any case, the CD is in the car now, and I've been listening to it. In doing so, it struck me how particularly apt this song title is to my current state of affairs. Lately, I am constantly feeling like I'm about to be snapped in two. And yet, I suspect that when I look back over my life someday, this particular moment in time will prove to be one of those that I remember most fondly. To be clear (and to steal shamelessly from Dickinson), it's the best of times and the worst of times. Things with my family (not the people who live in my house, but the more extended members of my family) have me stressed to a point where I'm having trouble sleeping. Certainly this cannot be described as the "best of times" or even "good times." But on the home front, I have the good sense to recognize that despite the pressures and stresses of working two jobs, being the mom to a two-year-old and a four-year-old, and trying to have something left over for my husband at the end of the day, these days are precious, and I'll miss them someday. But maybe not today.

My in-laws had the girls over the weekend. In my brief time as a parent, I've come to realize that a 24-hour escape from the chores and bickering and tantrums associated with having two children is sometimes all that's necessary to achieve some clarity on life. I've found that it takes me about six or seven hours to miss the girls, and it takes about 24 to 30 hours to REALLY miss them. And it's this newfound sense of clarity that enables me to enjoy (to really enjoy) the beautiful little things that my children say and do. It's so hard when you're caught up in the minutiae of day-to-day life and the forms from school and the laundry and trying to make dinner without your children killing one another to find the time to stop and appreciate the "good times." But yesterday evening, with two days of rest and relaxation under my belt, two runs where I didn't feel compelled to "rush" so I could get back home to the girls, two meals out where we could linger without worrying that little people would start to get impatient, I was refreshed enough to set my family issues aside and just be in the moment--as much as I am ever capable of doing.

And so I guess I'll remember yesterday evening, as least, as one of the good times. We enjoyed a nice pre-Thanksgiving meal. We went around the table saying what we are thankful for, and Sadie (without missing a beat) said that she is "thankful for Barack Obama." I'm pretty sure I've got a little Democrat in the making here. Right before we left to head home, snow started to fall, and the girls were so excited. We walked out to the car, each of us carrying a little girl in pink fleecy pajamas, as the snow swirled all around us and the girls shrieked with glee. Yes, these are the good times. I just hope they don't kill me before I can find the energy to reflect back on them.