One of Those Days
Do you ever have one of those days? One of those days when you wish you could turn in your resignation from all responsibilities? One of those days when you know if one more person throws a fit, you'll just lie down and kick and scream, too? One of those days when you wonder what in the world you've gotten yourself into? One of those days when it's hard to believe you'll miss this, as everyone says you will? One of those days when reminding yourself how blessed you are just isn't helping a whole lot? One of those days you can actually feel the gray hair growing? One of those days when you wonder who's really smarter...you or the 4-year-old? One of those days when your only hope is bedtime?
Well, I've had one of those days. It was actually just one of those mornings, which turned into just a normal, exhausting kind of day. If you're curious as to what I was doing between 9 and 10 am this morning, you'll be happy to know I was sitting in my pajamas in the kitchen floor, staring at a pile of Cinnamon Life cereal and repeatedly telling my screaming child to pick it up since he had deliberately thrown it down there in a fit of displeasure. (And, yes. He did pick it up. I wonder where they get their stubborness from?)
Later, you would have found me in the dairy aisle of my nearest and favorite grocery store, glancing side to side to make sure the coast was clear. Then I had to remind the aforementioned child that he did indeed have to stay in the hard-to-steer spaceship buggy the entire duration of the shopping trip. Naturally, as this was going on, someone I know and haven't seen in a while rounds the corner with her quiet, cooperative son sitting in her buggy. Lovely.
And interspersed in all this fun, I was listening to another child whine and complain about how hard life is and how terrible it is that he NEVER gets to do anything fun. It really is sad that we have absolutely nothing in or around our home with which to entertain a child other than a tv. I really should look into getting the child some books or toys or maybe even a few puzzles.
So, today I accomplished one load of laundry and bill-paying. Oh, and I did cook dinner which, of course, no one under 5 feet tall liked. And I suppose you could say that getting through the day without packing my suitcase and high-tailing it out of here is an accomplishment, too.
"Why?" you might ask. Why put up with all this grief and stress? Why wake up tomorrow and do it all over again? (Well, hopefully some of the details will be a little different.) But isn't the answer obvious?