For starters, my kids were fighting. All day. Whining, demanding. All day. It was hot out, and I didn't feel like going to the park and watching my kids on the monkey bars; I wanted to get some errands done and have some "me" time, which frankly, I get more than many I know as I work from home. I awoke to find my favorite flowers, pink peonies, gasping in the paper packaging without water as they "stored" overnight in my husband's front hall closet (purchased last night in an effort to surprise me upon waking this morning as he is an inveterate late sleeper). I know, I should be happy I got flowers, and flowers I actually like, but I didn't feel like scurrying for a vase half-asleep.
My house was a Red Cross level disastrous mess due to a messy husband, messier kids, and a scattered and hectic me. I seethed and hissed throughout the day. I threw a puzzle on the floor that keeps spilling allover my supposedly organized bookshelf (simply because my kids are normal and do not perfectly position it each and every time they play with it), and threatened to throw it away -- I then got tears in response and felt terrible and guilty for inducing such things on such a day.
The above picture is after cleanup. Notice the brush with the purse, with the vase, with the iPod, with the...
It gets worse. I threatened to throw away a handmade card (how asshole-ish and Amy Chua-like, I know) citing that "words not actions mean the most". Of course, I kept the card. Of course, I reassured the child that I would do so. Of course, I never intended to throw it out; I was speechless by how thoughtful and expressive the card was. I told my kids the truth: they were irritating me and "ruining" my day due to their incessant squabbling (did I mention that already? Oh, I did.) My husband "borrowed" some cash out of my purse unexpectedly and when out and about and discovered to be cash-less, I threw a text fit and sent him a mean, mean message. How lovely. How spousal abusive-ish. He even "paid me back" when I got home, and still, I was feeling slightly homicidal.
But, here it gets better: I was about to throw in the towel and resign to being a bitter and unhappy mom-wife-woman. I was about to give my husband the boot today finally and for real: I was done with the mess, the sloppy parenting antics, the everything. And then my husband did what he always does: just when I was about to break, to really lose it, he made me laugh, as he is many things, but mostly, he is buoyant. So, I did the thing I needed to do the most: I relaxed. I laughed and cried and stopped feeling sorry for myself -- I was a jerk today, and unfortunately, it happens to be Mother's Day. I am not a jerk every day, but I was today, and there's no way around it. My kids were irritating as hell, my husband is infuriating, and there's no way around those facts, either. It is what it is. We are who we are.
I am sharing this all for two reasons: One, I am hoping that the facts written down will not appear as vile as they feel, and two, Mother's Day or not, it was a shitty day, and I am human. Now, on to those gin-and-tonics...f-ck the green juice! (Today.)
