I'm taking a break from folding laundry to post about The Myth of Sisyphus. In Greek Mythology, Sisyphus was a king who was punished by being forced to roll a huge boulder up a hill only to watch it roll down and have to repeat the process all over again and again. The myth has become synonymous with repetitive and thankless jobs. Can anyone say LAUNDRY? This mind-numbing, endless chore is my own personal Sisyphus. At least it's a positive sign that my mind has not been completely devoured by "mommy brain" that I actually remember this tale from my Freshman English class.
Being a mom has many rewards, namely watching these little beings that you created form into wonderful people. However, sometimes I want to be like Prince and write the word "slave" on my face. My lowly position is most evident during meals. This is a time where every other word is "want" or "gimme." It's a cacophony of "nooooo, not the Dora cup; I want the Princess cup" (and that's just from my husband)! But seriously, it's insane. I know that I am here to literally serve these little helpless people, but I'd like to eat just one meal without hopping up ad infinitum to cater to their every desire. Some of it is my fault. I've been too willing to put up with the demands of my mini tyrants.
Dane's most recent reaction to any thwarting of his mercurial whims is to say a terse "no" and then fling the nearest object with alarming aim, strength and speed. No matter that the nearest object is a plate of eggs, he will fling it. We've all been conditioned, Pavlovian style, to cower when we hear his angry "no." He's an intense guy, our Danie, as extreme in his loving, cuddly side as he is in his tantrums.
Well, gotta get back to that laundry...
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