As a parent, you hear it everyday. In playgrounds, supermarkets, on the street, in the elevator --- whenever a child cries, someone invariably says "Oh, they're tired." It's a catch-all rationalization that seeks to explain and summarily excuse any bad behavior on the child's part (the other one being, "oh, they're hungry!") I still remember it being used in regards to my bad behavior -- and even as a wee lad, I remember thinking it was the most patronizing statement conceivable. "No, I'm NOT tired, goddammit," I envisioned saying, limited by my unsophisticated vocabulary, "I have a PERFECTLY LEGITIMATE GRIEVANCE, and I will NOT be so brusquely dismissed!!" Nine times out of ten, of course, they were right. While I might not have realized it at the time, I was probably tired (or, alternately, hungry). And as highly evolved and complex as we all like to think we are, when we're tired and/or hungry, we get cranky, depressed and irrational. It's just a fact.
In recent days, I've been feeling kinda down in the mouth (or "experiencing a disturbance in the Force" as my geekier brethren might say). I can't really put my finger on it. I mean, there are a few items currently in my life that are troubling me, but by and large, they're all under control. Still, I've been feeling sluggish, on edge and even argumentative (more so than usual). I haven't been able to pinpoint, however, what it is exactly that's been bugging me.
My wife, conversely, knows herself inside and out. She's hugely fond of napping (a luxury that, unfortunately, once children enter the picture, isn't always so easy to accommodate). When they nap in the middle of the day, however, Peggy tries to nap too. I don't. While I hugely enjoy sleeping, I just look at the kids' nap-time on weekends as an opportunity to concentrate on other projects (which invariably means wasting time on the computer or ripping compact discs to my iTunes or paying bills that are already way late). Before I know it, they're awake again, and the dung-throwing monkey parade begins anew. Again, Peggy is smart enough to seize the opportunity to re-charge her batteries.
Similarly, Peggy knows *immediately* when she's hungry, and knows that if she doesn't sate that need with the quickness, things are going to get testy. For some reason, it's not as crystal clear to me. I'll beg off eating any semblance of a proper breakfast (opting instead for two or three…or four…high powered cups of coffee) because I "don't have the time" or am late. I've always got something more pressing to do, and god forbid I take two minutes to eat something.
If Charlotte and Oliver haven't napped during the day, by the time I get home from work, they're practically psychotic. Reason, restraint, decorum and hygiene all go right out the window. It's kinda like the final scene of "Apocalypse Now," if it had been cast with toddlers. Basically, it's fairly cut and dry with them. If they don't get enough sleep and they don't get enough to eat, havoc ensues. Lately, I've been wracking my brain about what's bugging me. Am I still mad that the clown at the deli put my BLT on whole-wheat toast instead of white? Am I just bummed because since I shaved off my beard, I'm looking much jowlier than I'd prefer? Am I really still pissed that Scarlett Johannsen is performing with the Jesus & Mary Chain?
I think the real answer is the very same cause and effect that pertains to my kids. I'm tired. And I'm hungry. So if you're like me, before you waste hours of precious time psychoanalyzing yourself and fretting a new part in your hair, why not just take a nap.
And for god's sake, eat something.
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