you can't predict the weather
The weather changes from one second to the next, and goes from snow to rain, sunny to cloudy, in a matter of seconds.
Life follows a similar unpredictable pattern, and I never know what to expect from the day that lies ahead.
Monday, as you know, I was considering throwing my body off the Eiffel tower.
Tuesday night the kids had a screaming match and I wanted to throw them off the Eiffel tower.
The young boy refused to eat dinner, and shredded papers in his bedroom. The young girl cried profusely, and wanted her parents to hold her, not me. I felt clueless. Nothing I could say or do would change the mood or stop the screaming. It was one of those nights where I felt incapable of doing my job. Who am I to take care of children? I rubbed backs, talked in a soothing voice, and didn't force them to eat together. I even had the girl in the bath when the parents came home. But still, nothing was solved, and I left with a heavy head, screams still ringing in my ears.
Today, Wednesday, the weather girl must have been happy to announce longer breaks of blue sky. We played games, made figures out of clay, stuck bandaids on their bums so that their flu shot wouldn't hurt, and went to the big park across the river.
In the early evening, I listened to them play together while standing in the kitchen, and watched as the setting sun crawled across the living room.
Later, I spoke to my boss in English over a roast chicken dinner. The meal was warm and so was she. With her presence at the table I didn't have to worry about the kids eating or getting up too often. I enjoyed my meal as well as the conversation.
You can't predict the weather in Paris.
Some days are so cold and dark that all my hopes seem to drown in the Seine.
Other days, the clouds break open, and everything becomes golden. The Eiffel tower shines again.
I'm dreaming of sunny skies, but for all the other days, I've brought my umbrella.
"Sometimes one has simply to endure a period of depression for what it may hold of illumination if one can live through it, attentive to what it exposes or demands."
- May Sarton, In Struggle