Monday, February 21, 2011


It was not gentle.

I went from being completely, utterly, totally, wholeheartedly and wonderfully relaxed to being wound up and explosive within in 10 minutes. 

Sandra and I arrived back at the Vancouver airport at 9:15 pm on Saturday after a (mostly) uneventful travel day. (Although there WAS that family. The one with a grandma and grandpa, a young (spaced out, inattentive, wholly self-absorbed) mom and two (typical, attention-needing) kids. They were line budgers. In case you haven't traveled recently, let me tell you, there are alot of lines. Ticketing line-ups, security line-ups, customs queues, re-bagging lines... oh it goes on and on. And they budged EVERY SINGLE TIME by simply talking to each other while standing beside us, then gradually working their way into the line IN FRONT OF US. While this was uber annoying, it didn't cause us to be delayed.) (Also annoying was the unmarried couple who couldn't remove their lips from each other's mouths. They sat beside Sandra on the plane {and also were in front on the long walk between gates at the Denver airport, kissing the whole time, especially whenever they stepped onto those moving sidewalks. There were at least 8 moving sidewalks.} and continued kissing for most of the three hour flight from Denver to Vancouver. However, once they got off the plane, they ignored each other. Didn't go through customs together. And he was no where to be found at the luggage carasol. She gathered her suitcase by herself, and left, all alone. I think they were having a illicit tryst. I think they had people waiting for them on the other side in the arrivals area. Or I think she was getting tired of having his lips attached to her face. Again, this was annoying, and maybe mildly amusing, but didn't cause us any delays or change or level of laidbackness.)

But wholly cow. 

Get all 3 Oboys together and WHOOSH. I am a mess. 

A couple hours after my flight arrived, Clint and Drew's flight from Hawaii arrived. Max picked us all up and we went out to Boston Pizza for a late night catch-up dinner, (before dropping Clint off at his place in Vancouver.) I didn't think I'd survive the 15 minute ride. The words they said. The anger with which they spoke those words. The attitude. The topics. The content. The foulness. The language. 


I have this out-of-sight-out-of-mind thing. When I'm away from them, I have a rose-coloured-glasses fantasy world where I imagine us to be a loving, caring, kind, fun, encouraging and awesome. When I don't see them for a few days, and I don't hear from them, I have no choice but to leave them in God's hands and assume they're doing OK. 

And then. Then reality slams me in the face and I realize Oh My Goodness. We are dysfunctional. And messy. And mean. And foul-mouthed. And broken. And I have to keep praying frantically. And I get a sore stomach. And I feel the weight of poor parenting on my shoulders and I think I'm going to fold under the pressure. 

And those ten days? Seem like a distant dream. 
Was I really that relaxed?

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. The sun was out today and it was lovely. Friggin cold, but stunningly beautiful.
2. Sweet Tarts. But not the green ones.
3. Spontaneous dinner with Mandi, Mom and Dad. 


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Sorry re-entry was so rough. Mothering definitely ain't for sissies.