You're grumpy. A lot grumpier than you used
to be and for a long time now.
I was told recently that I am now grumpy. And grumpier all the time. And I started to wonder.
Am I?
Am I grumpy now? The last two years have definitely taken a toll on all of us and perhaps as a society we are more grumpy now. Or maybe we are just less willing to put up with bullshit? I know I am. I feel like the last two years has helped me to see that sharing my thoughts, my real thoughts, on certain situations isn't rude it's advocating for myself and perhaps others.
I wonder, "Does speaking your mind or your truth make you grump?" Or does it just show that other people have an unwillingness to hear things that make them uncomfortable?
I find myself drawing inwards a lot more in the last few months. I want to watch TV alone. I want to read in a room alone. I want to crochet or create alone. I rarely crave being with others. Perhaps it stems from all those months of being home during the quarantine and lockdowns and then the overstimulation of being in a school filled with people all day. Perhaps it stems from what often feels like the crushing weight of the constant news cycle of a world on fire? Perhaps it's because my youngest daughter has required me (and sometimes my husband, but less often) to sleep with her for at least 95% percent of the nights since March 2020. Maybe it's because I am not even alone in sleep?
Does wanting to be alone more often make me a grump? Does recognizing that I need this time for me make me a grump?
My friend, Chris Cluff is often a source of #thoughtfuel (and that term!) for me. He recently posted this poem on his blog- And . The phrase "the burden of caretaking and releasing our stories from clenched fists" felt like he had crawled inside my brain and had seen my thoughts.
In some ways my family has been so lucky these past two years. No one in our immediate family has had COVID, we have all kept our jobs and continue to live in a safe place. We have been able to connect more with our children as they have been home with us and we are building an addition on our home that will allow us to "escape" to the backyard for peace and relaxation. So does all that mean we aren't allowed to feel as though the last two years haven't been hard in other ways? Is there a scale of difficulty that prioritizes one person's hardship over the hardship of others?
Do I have a "right" to be grumpy?
What is the threshold where we are given permission to be grumpy? That our burdens make it social acceptable to be outwardly grumpy? Perhaps more grace and acknowledgement that everyone's story has value and their experience can't be measured against the experience of others?
I have friends going through hard things. Very hard things. Cancer. The death of family members. Fear for their immunocompromised children and loved ones. Mental health issues. Divorce.
All things infinitely harder than anything I am dealing with in my daily life. I would never call any of them grumpy. But I would also never call anyone just working through the daily slog of life in a pandemic grumpy either.
Seriously. Grumpy!? Me? Maybe I am. Maybe I'm grumpier than I used to be. Maybe I'm not.
Maybe I'm just less willing to hold back saying what I'm thinking. Maybe I'm tired of "meeting people where they are" fully knowing they never intend to put the work in to move forward. Maybe I'm not willing to let others walk all over the work I've put in to push my learning forward. Maybe I'm not willing to listen to excuses and choices that don't serve the students in our school community.
Maybe I'm grumpy. Maybe not.
And to be honest, I don't care anymore if you think I'm grumpy.
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