A Phoenix Burning

Life Themes

Do you ever feel like your entire life centers around a theme?  You know, that “thing” your soul needs to learn next in it’s path to enlightenment?  I’ve heard it said that God will continue to send you trials to challenge you to learn this lesson until you get it right.  Well, the theme of my life has always been “patience” (or so I’ve thought—I had a very wise man ponder once that he thought I was not on the right track with that theory…and therefore that is why I continue to fail at this lesson.  That until I figured out my true life “theme” I would continue to be frustrated.  Maybe he was right.)

Anyway…I have worked hard on my path to enlightenment.  I became a Special Education teacher, (and a darned good one if I do say so myself) which took a TON of patience.  And I worked with severely disabled adults for years (and I had a wealth of patience for that job.)  And I married Zan—let me tell ya’…patience galore. (He’s had to have a lot to stick with me too, so I guess we’re even.)   I have been on long-term bedrest with each of my three children, and managed to remain peaceful throughout my sentences.  I have three children, which is a very huge trial on my patience at times, but they remain very much loved, and unabused.  I tell you all this so you understand why I am so exasperated when something like this:

threatens to shred my hold on sanity.

The phone cord caught this half full cup of yogurt this morning as I talked with Zan, and then came the F-Bomb heard round the world.  The demon that resides quietly inside my typically rational breast, threatened to chew it’s way out like the vampire/half-breed spawn in Twilight and devour everything in it’s path.  Why, oh WHY have I not progressed further along my “path to enlightenment?”  In fact, I think I’ve taken one step forward and two steps backward (sometimes three) throughout my 39 years on the planet.  The “little” things will surely lead to my eventual demise.  I will be that crazy old  lady that all the neighborhood kids are afraid of, living behind dark shabby curtains and a wall of overgrown shrubbery.  And yet, I won’t be lonely, because I will still have my little demon sprite living with me, irritating me to irrationality at every opportunity.  Knocking over yogurt containers, making sure there are no more paper towels in the house to clean up the mess with…

Yes, unless I learn my lesson soon, this is my sad fate.  I’ve heard that straight-jackets are really quite comfortable though…?  I’ll let you know.

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8 responses

  1. At least it was just yogurt and not ice-cream!! 😉

    May 14, 2009 at 1:33 pm

  2. Have you taken a step back from the emotion and looked at why this event made you feel the way you do?

    This is literaly the modern version of “Don’t cry over spilled milk.” Is it the mess? The waste? The fact that you have no control over it ’cause it has already happened? I suspect the moment you put your finger on what it is that really bothers you about it…you will find the better way to deal with it.

    I usually just personify my frustrations…you know like Homer. It let’s me embrace it. But heck you are so much closer to saint then I am; so who the *insert f-bomb here* am I to give advice. 😉

    May 14, 2009 at 1:45 pm

    • Me??? Control issues????? *PSHAW*! LOL

      Honestly, I think it’s the “cup spillith over with irritations” problem. I swear, the planets have aligned to taunt me with Murphy’s Law type aggravations lately. “Yep…cause nothing’s ever easy” has become my motto the last few weeks. For example, that was the first of three more LARGE spills today…one milk ironically, and one a blender-full of dirty water. No ones fault…all so ridiculous that I’m not even sure how they happened…but infuriating nonetheless because I:
      A) Just washed the floor….AGAIN.
      B) Don’t have the desire to take care of one more irritating household chore.
      C) Find that every time something like this happens it’s when I’m trying to do three other things, one of them usually involving a toddler in meltdown.

      Aren’t I just a bundle of joy? lol
      And I’ve been wearing horns in place of halos lately…no Saints living here. 🙂

      If I was to be honest with myself, I would admit that I miss teaching so much that I feel like the hole in my soul will implode and suck me under if I allow myself to think about it. But I don’t really like being honest with myself…It’s much easier to live in denial and whine about things that don’t matter rather than face the reality that I’m not the stay-at-home-Mommy that I thought I would be. I love the being at home Mommy part, but feel empty without my job…and I can’t seem to reconcile the two.

      How’s that? Did I do good? It never really is about the milk, is it?

      Who needs therapy when you’ve got a blog?

      May 14, 2009 at 2:30 pm

  3. Geesh..what a freakin’ whiner I am! LOL

    May 14, 2009 at 6:29 pm

  4. karma

    Uh, you still have a phone with a cord??????????? 😉

    May 14, 2009 at 6:54 pm

    • HA! Yes…we tend to lose power around here during storms, so we keep a landline in the kitchen.

      May 15, 2009 at 5:46 am

  5. Why be so concerned? Let the hair go with the hide, baby. Anger is a necessary emotion, so roll with it. Then clean the damn kitchen, again. Seems that everyone thinks they should be happy all the time and repress anger and frustration. Nope. Ain’t gonna happen. Milk will spill, cars won’t start, kids will fight….Mommies will get pissed. Then, of course…clean the damn kitchen, again.

    May 15, 2009 at 12:40 pm

    • So, you’re saying my F-Bombs won’t leave perma-scars??? That’s a relief! LOL

      May 15, 2009 at 2:33 pm

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