"It's nobody's fault"

So this week, I've been:

a) having voracious sweet cravings - giant chocolate eclairs every day would have been nice.  I had to make do with marshmallows and chocolate.  Poor me.

b) taking everything very very personally.  I can't decide if it's because sometimes, my PMT isn't very noticeable, and other times, it makes me feel like I've ripped my heart out of my chest and started wearing it strapped to my back instead, OR whether it's because, due to the effects of the counselling and the mindfulness and the meditating I'm allowing myself to feel more.  For most of Thursday, it was a struggle, but I tried to let it be.  I only tipped over late in the day, when tiredness hit.  I lay down and closed my eyes and even though I could just have been tired, even Jake sensed something and he said, "Mummy, are you not happy?"  I said, "I'm just very tired honey."  And he said, "But are you not happy as well?"  He's such an astute child.  He offered me a cuddle and things were better, until today when I bit Paul's head off.

So what I've learned is this.  When it feels painful to simply feel what comes up and be mindful of it, I veer off into familiar, entrenched habits - like blaming other people, or feeling sorry for myself or believing that I am personally bearing the entire world's suffering on my shoulders because no one else cares.  So, yeah, self-righteous self-delusion.  I'd like to be kind to myself when I catch myself doing this.  But I find it hard.  It's hard to let go of those habits, those illusions.  Because the need to be RIGHT and BETTER than everyone takes over and stamps on everything else.  Which makes it harder to step down, step back and see things as they are.  Which takes me to...

c) This week, I've also been making my child look like Hitler.  You see, I thought it would be fun to give Jake a side-parting while I was trimming his hair.  I was totally confident that I would be able to do it.  Never mind that I've never trained as a hairdresser or even googled "how to give your child a parting without making him look weird" or even watched a real hairdresser cut a child's hair.  Soooooo.....when Paul saw my handiwork, he set about putting it right.

Here are some things you probably don't want to hear when your parents are cutting your hair:

Oh crap.
(SIGH)  I'm so sorry.
Hmmmmm.
We might have to use the shaver on him.
Ooops!
How long does it take for hair to grow out?
Well if only you'd sat still...(yes, two year old, how dare you flinch and duck while we wield scissors in your direction with furrowed brows and tuts of confusion)

And one thing you don't ever expect your two year old to say: please don't shave me!



Post-Hitler parting, take 1
(or Auditions for Psycho, The Toddler Years?)




What he looks like now.
(Was your Mommy drunk when she did that to you?
No, both Mommy & Daddy were.)


Still.  Jake doesn't care what he looks like and it's nice to see more of his face.