Painted myself into a corner

I’m scatterbrained and unsettled tonight so there is no promise of an enjoyable read. I wonder if I should even blog when I’m in some sort of funk.

Intellectually, I know none of my problems are unsolvable or unbeatable. The catch is that I’m running low on the will to keep fighting the seemingly endless cavalcade of roadblocks and interpersonal complications. Even setting up a simple weekly night of socializing and game playing turns into a ill-tempered battle of hurt feelings and unmet expectations.

In my youth spent being blissfully unaware and uninterested, I put little stock in the friendships around me. Some of them were truly disposable, fashioned out of a common desire to drink and watch our lives spiral into comfortable failure. The other friendships meant a lot to me, and still do, but the connection between us drifts further and further apart as the days pass.

And now that I want to be an example of strong, positive relationships to Max, I can’t manage any.  I don’t know if my expectations are unrealistic, or if I’ve just been to self-absorbed. There is every chance that it’s natural to  outgrow a friendship as your lives go in different directions, but your entire peer group? The last thing I want to teach Max is how to be an isolated introvert, but these days I just can’t seem to get any relationship right.

At least I’ve learnt this much: whenever I’m this sad, it’s very likely that I’m over-tired and a good night of sleep will take a lot of the gloom off of things. Here’s to restful slumber.

So many Tiny Rebellions

A full week of hearty eating and deep sleeping signals the arrival of another growth spurt. In this case, lucky me, it’s his brain size that has taken a jump. Why would that  be bad, you ask?  It’s not, by itself. It’s great that he is showing improved language skills. He can rhyme. He has a developing sense of musical rhythm. I noticed him singing back a line of a song that was playing on the radio, a song he had not heard before. He is awesome.

But, there is a down side to a cognitive ability expansion. With all of that  new, extra brainpower, the young man is challenging every rule he can remember. I can tell you that a tired daddy does not need  a boy running laps through the house wailing at the top of his lungs. Does he really need to practice reacting to tragedy? He seems to think so.  He made a dash for freedom while at the Wal-Mart with his mother, he yelled at me for daring to offer him juice when he wanted milk,  and the cat is seeing no end of harassment. On the upside, he did send himself for a timeout when he pulled the cat’s tail, so that’s progress.

Hopefully the unruly storm is blowing itself out and we can weather the last few uprisings from our little nude guerilla. Vive la resistance!

Ah! Demanding Readers!

Requiring content! Ah! Brain soft and empty! Panic!

I had originally planned on a lengthy discourse that would have merrily strayed into areas beyond my expertise, but fortunately I’ve caught on that right now I don’t have the mental candle power to light that lamp. So, instead, I give you….something.

I’ve been back on the university campus twice in the last few weeks, and it’s been a strange experience. The first time was while I was in the throes of my sinus cold, so I know that made everything surreal and hard to understand.  Even taking that into consideration, walking into the university community centre bewildered me. It was as if I had become unstuck in time and I was  instantly the same guy I was 15 years ago (15 is an estimate. I have a poor memory when it comes to my own timeline). I think it was the huge throng of people going in every direction that overwhelmed me and confused me, as it always had. Eventually I got my bearings back but it’s a real kick in the gut to feel just as confused at  36 as you did at 20.

The students were all kids, much too young to be on their own and living as adults. they should still have a grade 13 year to mature a little bit more. They looked so young and immature that I couldn’t even ogle the girls. I just wanted to put a sweater on them and send them home to their mothers. This was probably the head cold talking.