Sunday, November 10, 2013

On sponges and walls

I'm kind of a sponge.

I suppose you could call me "sensitive" or "empathic."  I prefer sponge.  

But whatever you call me, if you have a feeling and I'm in your near emotional vicinity, I'm probably going to have it too.  And sometimes I forget that it isn't my feeling.

My oldest daughter is a bit of a sponge too.  THAT makes for some interesting days together, with the two of us feeding off each other, winding each other up, and then getting mushy lovey-doveyness all over each other.  While the baby eats crayons.   Or cheerfully climbs on her sister's head, while BG yells "NO I DON'T WANT THE BABY."

I asked  Jenny once what it means if I feel like myself again, but only when my kids are asleep.  She said that means I'm normal.  Huh. (And THAT would be a first.) ;)

But in all seriousness, sometimes I really need a break.

I just need to be away from my daughter for 20 minutes.  20 minutes when I can listen to an audiobook, empty my dishwasher, eat pizza on my couch, stare at a wall.  Just not be talked to or climbed on for a little while.  Just not be overcome by all the love and all the craziness all the time.  

But she doesn't see it that way.

I hate naptime.  It is the worst time of the day.  It is the time of the day when BG and I are most at odds out of our entire lives.  I am in favor.  She is not.

And as much as my logical brain tells me that whether she sleeps or not, the space and quiet time is good for both of us, I can't help but feel I am banishing her because I am selfish.  Because she only wants me.

But she's three.  And I'm 32.  I need to trust that I'm the one who knows what's best.

That's a hard thing to trust sometimes.


Speaking of people in my immediate emotional vicinity.  (Weren't we speaking of that?  I swear we were.)  Here's the thing I love hate  struggle with most about social media.

You're all up in my space all the time.  And you don't even know it.

I read your words and I hear you.  I feel you.  I get it.  I am fully immersed in all of you.  I write?  And I put all of my feelings out there in a way I NEVER would do if you were in front of me.  The emotional space between us is narrower and narrower.  Almost as narrow as it is with the three year old who spends her days with her nose a centimeter away from mine.

It's an amazing feeling.  Closeness.  Connection.  Belonging.  And it's scary as hell.  And it's totally and completely overwhelming.  Sometimes I get lost in it.  So lost that I forget I have my own feelings that are not being beamed into my head from across the interwebz.

That's the part that's probably not so good.

Putting up walls is my go to move.  Running away and retreating into myself is my comfort position.   I don't want to go there.  I don't want to be under my desk.

But I need to breathe.

What's the difference between a boundary and a wall?

NaBloPoMo November 2013


  1. I am with you in that I pour my heart out in my blog but face to face I couldn't say a lot of that.

  2. Boundaries are necessary for you to protect your own health and well-being. Walls are shutting out the world.

    Our 3 year olds need that quiet time because they are such extroverts. They need that time for their bodies and minds to wind down.