I tried changing it to 'Ah, I'm happy'
It is 8:00 PM.
With the goal of getting the children to bed in sight, my fatigue was about to reach its peak.
Just a little further to the finish line.
Hang in there, me.
There are times when I'm so tired I want to cry.
Now that I'm in my 40s, I've become truly prone to fatigue.
When I was in my 20s aiming to be a musical actor, I would wake up at 5:00 AM every morning, leave Yokohama, and work a part-time job in Shinagawa from 8:00 AM to 4:00 PM.
As soon as I finished, I would change clothes in a flash and dash through Shinagawa Station like the wind.
I would take the Yamanote Line from Shinagawa to Ikebukuro, where the musical school was.
I would take one dance lesson starting at 5:00 PM, followed by acting lessons until 10:00 PM.
I would always get home past midnight.
I lived like that every single day.
I was completely fine with it.
I was so young back then~ (looking into the distance)
It's partly youth, but honestly, the passion I had back then was incredible.
Having something you want to do makes you invincible.
As I reminisced about that, I started putting the scattered LEGOs into their box.
Ah, I'm exhausted.
When I have some energy left, I can toss them into the box easily, but when I'm at maximum fatigue, the LEGOs feel as heavy as lead.
Ah, I'm exhausted.
At times like that, my son asks me,
'Can I draw a picture?'
He shows no mercy to a mother who is basically a living corpse.
Oh, what is with those sparkling eyes!
What vitality.
While thinking 'Are you serious?' in my heart, I've finally learned as a mother that once I say no, this stubborn boy will definitely whine and complain, so it's smoother in the end to just say, 'Yes, go ahead'.
After all, I've repeated this battle with my son countless times.
My son starts drawing happily. My exhausted, wobbly mother self.
I don't even have the energy to invite him to clean up the LEGOs together, so while my son is drawing, I tidy up the messy room.
'Ah, I'm exhausted.'
The voice I was muttering in my heart had slipped out before I knew it.
Those words weighed heavily on my body like a curse, and the more I said them, the more exhausted I became. Heavy...
Come to think of it.
There was a parenting show once where the theme was how to avoid getting frustrated. Among the various methods introduced, a mom said, 'If you add "nya" to the end of your sentences, you won't get frustrated anymore,' which was so shocking that I tried it once (just once...).
It happened in the evening when a fight broke out between the brothers. Speaking of evening, it's when I start preparing dinner and when my fatigue from the day starts to show.
In other words, fights between brothers at such times are incredibly frustrating.
The time had come to try that thing.
Time to visualize it.
What happened now, nya? Just separate for now, nya. Mom has to prepare dinner, so please get along, nya.
Can you say this?
It's true that adding "nya" might blow away the toxicity, so to speak, but I'm at maximum irritation here, and I'm not in the right mental state to add "nya" in the first place. Even if I tried saying it, I can already see my sons giving me cold stares.
Just imagining it makes me feel like giving up.
So, this "nya" suffix strategy just left me thinking that mom was amazing.
Let's get back to the point.
If I keep saying how tough things are, the LEGO bricks turn into lead, and I just become a living corpse... but that said, I don't have the energy to add "nya" either.
Ding!
I had a flash of inspiration.
What if I tried converting the word "tough" into "happy"?
I tried it.
"Ah, I'm happy."
I said, while picking up the LEGOs.
"Ah, I'm happy."
I put the LEGOs in the box.
"Ah, this is the happiest time ever."
I pick up the LEGOs.
"Ah, why am I so happy?"
Put the LEGOs in the box.
For some reason, both my mood and the LEGOs feel lighter than before.
"That's great! I love that! It's making me feel happy too."
My husband, who was being dragged along to draw pictures, laughed.
My son shot me a look that said, "What are you talking about?"
Tsk, what a dry guy.
I continue while picking up the LEGOs.
"Ah~~~~~~~~, I'm so happy!!!!"
Somehow, even though I was exhausted, I started feeling happier and happier.
My husband laughs.
I laugh too.
My son is dry (tsk).
The living-corpse mom before bedtime was about to die in front of a son who wouldn't sleep at all and a room that was a total mess, but I managed to survive.
Words have power.
Depending on yourself, the difficult things right in front of you can suddenly turn into something bright.
The point is not to say it in your heart, but to actually say it out loud.
I hope that by embodying this as a mother, it will also reach my dry son.