Dragging

I have put off posting all day. First there was just the bedlam of a holiday morning. We fared quite well. The sugar hadn’t fully kicked in. By the end of church there were still smiles, but tired eyes and it was in the market on the way home that the fatigue fully set in. Yes, it was a tantrum, but with the crash came the lack of energy for screams to get ear splitting and frankly there wasn’t a lot of sense, just a growing sense of ill ease. And a lot of “I can’t”s.

My daughter has been another story, though. Too old for full-blown tantrums she had receded to the weapons of tweens and teens around the world; disdain, contempt and surliness. There’s a bout of rudeness and talking back thrown in for good measure. Just in case her arrows don’t pierce the heart. At this date she is two days into the loss of her cell phone and she may not be getting it back anytime soon. She has spent much of the evening telling me all the reasons I really need her to have a cell phone. I told her that the arguments may work on her when she’s a Mom, but I grew up in a world without cell phones and I can manage. She will just have to abide by harder set rules, rather than the checking in that she does now. About ten minutes ago she was so out of line that I told her I was sending the phone to an underprivileged child who doesn’t have his own cell phone. It may be a new generation, but we use the same threats our mother’s did.

This afternoon,  I too, napped, hoping that my own feelings of dis-ease would lift. Nope, no hope. I’m sick. I’ve tried to stay in bed most of the day in hopes that tomorrow I’ll wake with a renewed since of purpose and energy. That is what this holiday is all about, right? Renewal? Rebirth? Rejuvenation? Forget Christ, Ostara had it all down centuries earlier. Oh, I’m just too tired to go into it.

So, I’m going back to bed where my son, fueled by his rare mid-afternoon nap sits watching Dora and yelling at the travel DVD player. I’m kicking the boys out of the room altogether and gathering up House of Mirth and will try to have hope for Lily Bart. She is a delicious read, but one just worries so about her. 

And though I realize I’m whining, it was a pretty nice holiday. It had all the trappings of family and holiday. Great food, Peep centerpiece, mid-afternoon naps, candy and now that feeling that i’ve over done it and need to sleep even more. Who would wish it any other way?

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