jan_can_too (jan_can_too) wrote,


So when I posted about Syd and the ball yesterday, it was almost the last moment of clarity in the day. If I were the kind of person to believe in curses (and I try not to be), I would say that I brought it on myself.

I think I understand how the poor sap who kicks a pebble and starts and avalanche feels. That would be me. But before I get to that part, I’ll review all the rocks and snow piled up waiting to plummet.

I’m tired. Not “Gosh, I didn’t sleep well last night” tired, but the deep, soul kind. Since January, I’ve dealt with T. breaking a leg, Syd having surgery, my mom discovering breast cancer, and the usual existential angst. I have driven too much, slept too little. Despite my attempts to cultivate patience, I always seem to be fresh out. I often feel like a person at the end of a Tetris game when pieces are falling faster than I can possibly rotate and move them to fit them into place. Keep that in your mind as you’re singing, as Arlo would say (I surfed around for a while looking for a clip, but you'll have to go find it yourself. It's from the album Together in Concert with Pete Seeger and the song "Walking Down the Line," the part where Arlo teaches the chorus to the audience).

So. The pebble. It’s laughably small. As we were getting into the car to go to school yesterday, Syd snapped at T. about how he put his backpack in the car. T. has had enough of Syd snapping at him and responded in kind. Syd asked me to tell T. not to be mean. And then I kicked the pebble.

I said that of course T. should not be mean, but that Syd was a little unreasonable to expect him to continue to be patient with Syd treating him terribly all the time. I said that, as Syd’s mom, it is my job to give him the benefit of the doubt always, but that other people are not his mom and he’s out of chances, that everyone else is sick and tired of Syd complaining and yelling and stomping around all over everyone.

The rocks and snow began to fall. I am delusional. I do not let Syd express his emotions. I falsely accuse him of yelling all the time. I force him to exist in two households because of my failed marriage. And he’s not going to do it anymore; he wants to live with his dad full time.

Avalanches are suffocating. As the rocks bounce off of you, they bruise. As the snow piles up on top of you, you can’t breathe. The metaphor breaks down here, because I would have to have super powers to manage to kick the pebble and get under the force of the avalanche, but if I do have a super power, it is the power of bringing down disaster on my head.

I don’t know what is really going to happen next. There will probably be a conversation with Syd and Rick. (Rick, by the way, thinks Syd is being ridiculous. He’s not Syd’s mom, either, and so is out of patience with the crappy behavior.)

I know that I spent my day yesterday trying to dig myself out from under. Brent helped. I can breathe again.

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