I was fascinated to watch the different forms of my latest tantrum. I love to work. Heck, I love to overwork, and in my recent incarnation as a “leader with spirit” (a religion-neutral version of the term: spiritual leader), I’ve justified working more than ever. But work can become my justification for anything.
Will, my husband, does so much: he works more than full time, makes a good living, and he cooks, does dishes, takes kids to the bus in the morning, handles our bills, manages our budget, reads bedtime stories, cleans up vomit, fixes what’s broken and takes me to bed every night by 10:30 or 11pm for deep talks. All he asked me to do was handle our eldest daughter’s lice. And, it was all too much for me.
At first I begged not to have to do it. Then knowing it was right, I decided I would do it, and applied my usual go-get-’em ethic. But I was distracted by everything else I was doing and justified in my frazzled reaction, and I didn’t do the treatment fully or properly. I was mad at the situation (not the author of it, or “looking for my lesson”), resentful and “going through the motions” but not really being meticulous. And anyone who has dealt with lice knows you have to be nit-ticulous. So, as usual with my lessons, the lice returned a week later.
This time I OVER-did it. Like a lunatic, I took apart the entire house and started lining up every piece of furniture for poison spray, everything the kids had ever touched went into a pile in the middle of the room for immediate bagging and or washing. I was about to tell the children they had to stay still with bags over their heads for 48 hours straight when my husband intervened. By the time he found me I was both screeching and crying. Eventually, thanks to his fortitude, I realized this was the OTHER version of my tantrum. This one “appeared” more like handling the situation, but was just as ineffective. It might have worked, but at what cost? My measures were excessive and unnecessary; calm research revealed this. That I love drama was my husband’s (accurate) final assessment. I love it even more than curing the lice. Oy.
This latest confession is meant to once again:
1) Reveal and encourage self-observation (and confessions)
2) Inspire you to look for your forms of tantrums and consider “time-outs” for yourself
3) Pay tribute to my husband. Happy Valentines Day Will! You saved me from myself again. I love you.