Sometimes it’s the little things.
That tiny little detail, on top of a mountain of craptastic, that sends you falling to your knees.
Literally. “God help me, I am circling the drain.” On my knees.
It wasn’t the 3 hour getting-out-of-bed, running around and refusing to sleep marathon. Despite our removal of all toys/books/stuffies from the room.
It wasn’t the severe lack of sleep after a wakeful night “sans Daddy.” I never miss him more than during that 2-5am stretch of horrible.
It wasn’t trimming the littles’ bangs going horribly, horribly wrong. C warned me, “Moooom, not a good idea…” Perhaps people will assume they did it to themselves. What kind of Mom would do that to her own child?
It wasn’t the salt shaker malfunction adding an unexpected Cup of seasoning to the dish. So much for meatloaf.
It wasn’t B peeing, through her pullup, on the McDonald’s play structure, dramatically showering the table below. Nor even the fact that a family from our school was there to witness our fun evening. Nor S immediately running through the puddle of urine.
It wasn’t the double melt-down on the way out. Not S’ supersonic screams of indignance (granted, he wasn’t the one who peed on everyone, but nevertheless we had to leave). Not even when B started her I’m-so-mad-I-could-spit… so-I-WILL trick, interspersed with dramatic shouts of “NEVER! spit NEVER! spit NEVER!” while I dragged her out.
Today, the only thing I couldn’t handle was realizing my flannel pjs were still in the wash.
I’m not difficult to please. I don’t ask much of the universe. After surviving a day like this, all I ask is to recline in comfortable fuzzy pants. That’s it.
It seems silly. But it really was the last straw.
After a mini-meltdown I realized that lo and behold, I had another pair waiting for me. Like a gift from God, fresh from the dryer. And that made it all better.
Sometimes it’s the little things.
So here’s me… not a day I’d like to repeat, but at least it makes for a good story. We have a lot of those lately. At least my prayer life is on the upswing.
CHRISTIE HOOS
No comments:
Post a Comment