Chaos is a constant distraction in our home. While we are parents to just one busy seven year old, we also parent and house a large dog with a humane personality along with an overweight cat who both don't have quite enough room to chase each other around in. You might wonder how a family of three, or rather 5 in our world, could possibly know and understand the true meaning of chaos but friends let me tell you, we've earned the name 'crazy house' for good reason and most days I see the insane asylum lurking in my future. Chaos can be fun and remedial for the humor and adventure seeking soul and that soul is me; most days. But then there are other days when my thoughts take me to another place. When the chaos becomes a burden on top of my frail shoulders. When the noise becomes deafening and the thought of being locked away in a padded room seems more like a blissful vacation rather than a feeling of entrapment. Let me explain.
The door latched on the wall that separates the bathroom from exposure never actually shuts when it becomes occupied. Maybe for the other two occupants of the home, but never for me. There was a time when the door would latch into place on the other side of the doorframe as soon as I would enter the bathroom. And almost instantly, the click of the latch led to shouts from the other side of the door from my child who suddenly had interest in how my day went or from my husband who suddenly forgot which cupboard the Tupperware is stored in. And then there was the furry paw from the oversized feline that would feel his way underneath the doorframe. And of course there was large rear end of our human like dog pushing herself against the door thinking that might actually cause the door to fly open just so that I remained in her sight.
Taking a shower in peace or brushing my teeth in silence have become a past time; a time before I had a child or husband. Usually, my shower time is the same time my daughter realizes she needs something. My dinner is usually cold by the time I have sat down to eat it because my daughter decided she wanted a fork instead of a spoon, her napkin dropped on the floor or my husband needs a refill. When I walk in the door after a long day at work, the golden doodle we call our second daughter cues this as play time. And so the never ending, circle chasing, tail biting and eye pawing between the cat and dog continues until we shut that second daughter of ours upstairs with us for bed. We race to make it to soccer at 10, an event at 1 and then all the way across town to the basketball game at 4, all in one day. Racing against time is a constant in our home. Like, for whatever reason, I think I have time to clean the bathroom 15 minutes before I need to be somewhere. That's my husband's favorite. But don't let the impatient guy that is huffing and puffing while standing at the front door as he waits for his unrelenting wife fool you. He's been known to hold us up in a time of chaos for reasons more than one. But he won't ever admit to that, so that leads to a comical argument in the front seat of the car about who was right and who was wrong. (I promise it's all in good fun)
So one day I had had enough. Enough of the chaos. My husband wasn't home so it was just my daughter and I. Lets not forget the circus that was playing a game of chase. I declared to my daughter that I was going to brush my teeth and wash the day's makeup away with the bathroom door closed, and that I would help her get ready for bed when I came out. This was my desperate attempt to shut the world out for just five minutes. The door shut and so began my daughter's attempted conversation through the sturdy piece of wood that was separating us. So began the game of chase upstairs that, for whatever reason, caused constant and lurid banging on that sturdy piece of wood that was separating me from the chaos. And then I hear a knock at the door as I had a mouthful of toothpaste. My husband was home and was asking if I was OK. And then, my sensitive soul of a child reciprocated and softly asked if she could come in yet. There I was fighting back tears partly because I didn't get that moment of peace that I desired so badly, but mostly because I felt guilty for hiding from my family.
The feeling of guilt is long lasting and mind consuming. Guilt consumes me when I walk out the door to head to the grocery store without my child in hand or husband following behind. (Yes, friends, my husband enjoys going shopping with me.) Guilt eats at me when I ask said husband to replace the requested spoon with the fork for our insistent daughter, even though I know he happily obliges. Guilt persists when I raise my voice at the dog and cat playing the game of chase because I crave a moment of silence and then again when anxiousness shows in my voice when time is against us. Guilt brings me to tears when my family doesn't understand why I have shut them out, even for just a few minutes.
Does this sound close to home? I have to admit, I feel a little melodramatic after sharing stories of chaos with my closest friend who raises three children while maintaining a marriage and two pets of her own. And I know there are others who are in a much greater state of chaos and who carry a heavier weight of guilt than I, but as parents we are all equals. At one time or another we have all shared the same fears and burdens. I'm just here to tell you that I am not coping with life's chaos any better than you are nor am I feeling any less guilty than you for my sometimes ill-temper, my lack of attentiveness during my attempts in gaining a moment of peace or for making my daughter late for soccer because I decided to clean the bathroom before we left. I have pitfalls just like you and sometimes in a state of chaos I don't recognize my own face in the mirror.
Mom's and dad's, I just want you to know that while you are over there agonizing over the way you recently handled your own state of chaos, I am also feeling remorseful for the way I reacted to my daughters last minute announcement that she needed a slip to participate in some event at school. Friends, I threw that slip away two weeks prior hoping that she would forget and my ill-temper was a result of my own guilt for disposing of it. I felt so guilty that I filled that slip out online and donated $20 to this event just so that she could get some puppy necklace in return. And rest assured, tomorrow we will rush to get my car to the dealership after my daughters basketball game and go back and forth about what we want for dinner in front of our waitress, but only after we bicker about what restaurant we will actually go to in the first place. I will feel guilty for ordering my husband to speed up the car on the way to the dealership and will likely feel overwhelmed with the chaos of the day, but I can promise we will laugh about it on the car ride home.
I don't have any idea on how to achieve an absence of guilt and I dare say that it's likely impossible. And chaos is just inevitable as we venture each day in life. What I can tell you is that chaos can be fun if you choose to find humor in those moments. I can also tell you that guilt can bring great relief once you throw it away and change what brought you there to begin with - but only until the next chaotic moment brings you right back there again. For me, I guess I would rather feel a moment of guilt after shutting myself out from the world to gain my sanity again. And if it wasn't for the chaos, I certainly wouldn't have story to tell or a memory to laugh at.
Until next time, enjoy the chaos.
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