Mother/Daughter Ear Plugs & Ear Tugs?

     This entry is purposefully written and published on the last day of the month. I want to hide it. This blog is transparent, personal, brutally honest, and is most likely for my eyes only.

     Sometimes when I dialog with others I share more than an earful of words. I ramble. My insightful "yada, yada" turns to a significance-seeking, one-way, pummeling jabber-fest. At times I am... TOO. It particularly happens with those close to me, like when I visit my oh, so patient, gentle-spirited, highly-competent, long-distance daughter and my sister-in-law.

     During my most recent extended stay, we had what I will label as our first-ever emotionally disruptive mother/ daughter blubbery word exchange. The timing was ironic, because it was right after our first-ever Mother/ Daughter banquet together.

     The banquet was an overall delight, with special people, flowers, etched glassware, and all thing pretty. On our way home, naturally I energetically chatter about the evening which segues to my one-way jabber-fest. My daughter responds with what I receive as a hurtful comment, and I over-react. We are tearful, and upon arriving to her place I plug my ears and make a quiet bee-line to my room. Talking any further, after a long and tiring day, would be an ugly, reactive, royal blubber-fest. Instead, I journal and experience a long, lonely, tearful, contemplative night.

      Fortunately, by early morning, rather than beating myself up further, this insightful and relieving thought almost knocks me out of bed: It's normal!! 

      Boing and duh! My shaken nerves are almost immediately calmed, which allows me to mentally enter into her world. We are rubbing shoulders together 24/7, her pregnancy hormones are surely piqued, and she doesn't need to deal with my ACOA (Adult Child of an Alcoholic) affirmation-seeking seriousness. My response can deepen our relationship. Thank you, Lord, for this most amazing... opportunity! 

      I head downstairs to positively "face the music," clear the air, and eat honey-nut crow. We calmly address each other's comments and that my response was TOO. We agree that our tension is "normal." The fog evaporates and the "peace pipe" is passed. After our restorative mother/daughter hug, the air smells fresher; spring flowers dance with color; sun reflections sparkle off the windows; and clouds are whiter.

     Despite severe sleep deprivation and my daughter's busy schedule, we walk on water. We are supercharged, and I prepare to cherish another rare grandson and daughter-filled day.
 
       Bonus jabber-fest: During my hours-long drive home, I reflect on my jabbering and its effect on upcoming visits. Future over-chattering is inevitable, and a respectfully-timed visual cue from my daughter might be beneficial (like vintage Carol Burnett's loving ear tug at the end of her weekly shows. She was sending a non-verbal message to her grandmother that she loved her. The story about her childhood and special ear tugs are touching.)

       Maybe I will suggest the ear tug gesture as my daughter's caring signal: I love you, Mom... but you have majorly entered into TOO-land. But, then again, maybe not!