Yep, kids are great, mom is great, everything's grrreat! Blah blah blah blah blah. Some days, even though everything is great, everything is crap.
Yesterday, I had to get up early to show a listing. Blah blah blah the people think the house is so cool, the house is so old and classic, the house is so blah blah blah. You know what? I know the house is old and cool. I think it's a classic, too! But chatting with you endlessly about it at 9AM, I gotta be honest, is not the only thing I got going on. So enjoy your day, enjoy whatever house you're going to buy that isn't this one - because that's the kind of day I'm having - do whatever it is you're doing, but for the love of cheese and crackers, stop yapping so I can get out of here.
In this frame of mind, I came home. To the usual mess, laze, and all-around moist-sock smell that has become my home. You know what? I HATE that. I hate it every time. I hate coming home to my pretty home that I'm trying so hard to keep, finding everyone's 'descuidado' (which is, roughly, carelessness but sounds more ominous in Spanish) splayed about like badges of 'screw you' being advertised with gusto.
And I'm tired. I'm tired of cleaning. I want to sleep! But did I fly into a rage and make everyone miserable at the start of their days? No! I'm a reader! I read lots of books on how to be happier and how be a better mother, a better wife, a better person. I'm so busy being better I think better must be reading books about being me!
So I put all that good bullshit to work and took control of my own issue. I started picking up, cleaning up, and putting things away. That task always takes longer than one expects, and in my case was made exponentially more difficult and maddening by the slow drip of teenagers that began to make its way in and around the messes I was trying to clean up. I can only imagine what a nuisance I was with my dusting, sweeping, vacuuming, mopping, dish-washing, windexing, and all the rest while there was so much important snap-chatting and gasping-picture taking going on.
By 3PM I still hadn't eaten. I still had to work and had report cards to pickup which entailed going to the schools where - in one, I don't volunteer hardly at all and I feel like an anonymous wall-hanging every time I walk in - and in the other, I volunteer plenty and still feel like I should have been there helping out all day. Schools are literal volunteering vacuums. I felt terrible when I saw another mom alone at the table I was supposed to be manning, and even worse when I told her I couldn't stay. I didn't get to talk to any of the teachers I wanted to, really, and the few teachers I did speak with seemed to ignore the fact that I had my youngest daughter with me. They only wanted to talk about my oldest daughter.
Hey - I get it - it's great that she's smart. Yes I'm proud. Yes she's awesome. But I have THREE children and I actually think all three are pretty great and smart and I'm proud of all of them. The one I have standing next to me, for instance, is a person. She has ideas and aspirations and she works hard and wants to be excited about her future and wants everyone to greet her like she matters, too. And my son does just about everything my girls do with nearly zero fanfare, and I'm sure once in a while he'd prefer not to have to suffer another joke about how great his sister is and what a loser he must be by comparison. He's actually not.
I walked out of there pissed and emotional and feeling like a failure. And broke! Because I owe exam fees and book fees and graduation fees. Shoes and flaming cripes the world freaking runs on charging me fees!
I came back home famished, but I couldn't make anything to eat because Tony was meeting me so we could go to another appointment. I sat down, knowing we had just minutes to make it on time, and waited. He came in a few moments later and as I began to gather myself to walk out the door I saw he went straight to the kitchen to get himself something to eat. When he came back into the living room he told me, between mouthfuls, that he and the client had agreed on a slightly later time.
Did I screech and rail against the forces of humanity that had delivered this wretched day to me? Nope. Super calm.
We went to the appointment and, all things being what they are, two hours later we were on the road back to the house. I had not yet eaten and dinner had to be made. It was already 8PM. So we made a financially disastrous decision and ordered pizza, which Tony can't eat because he's gluten free, and went home. When we got back, already a new mess had been installed where the old one had been removed. Whew! I thought we'd be missing the mess and funk for a day, but thank goodness slobbier heads prevailed.
I told the kids we'd ordered pizza to celebrate report cards and I got snarky 'Bad parenting move' comments in return. When the food arrived one of the kids tried to take pizza and salad upstairs so as to not eat with us because the marathon snapchat that has become her life was still in play and I think she'd rather eat with electronic company than suffer fifteen minutes across from me. I ate the wrong slices of pizza and had to give a half-eaten piece back to Sam, because he's meat-free, and then I had to eat pizza I didn't want, now cold because the box had been left open.
At the end of the night I reminded one of the kids about dishes, and that the dishwasher was broken (it was a crappy day, what can I tell you?) so they'd have to be done by hand.
The Cubs won, and if I had to have a crappy day, that was certainly a fine attempt at turning it around. I worked through most of the game, but will admit that the sound in the background does bring a smile to my face.
I feel asleep on the couch and had to be tucked in by one of the kids, who also wanted to know if I could get up a little earlier than usual to take her to school so she could do some make-up work. Sleep? Who needs sleep?
I got up early, as requested, and went into the kitchen. The dishes were still there, all piled up, creamy salad dressing and water lifting bits of lettuce and carrot along the salad bowl that had been left on top; ants were carrying on a rave, Studio 54-style. I blinked at this and decided to make coffee before I murdered anyone, so as to improve my precision (always thinking about the mess).
While the pot brewed I went to get dressed and found that I'd not managed to get laundry done so I had no socks. I slipped on a pair of Tony's which could double as leg warmers if you're putting a positive spin on things. I decided to go sans. My feet are freezing.
I tried to check email and found that my password wasn't working so I got locked out of all my work-related sites. The early riser wanted to know if there was enough coffee for her to take some. 'Sure!' She got it all together and we left. I came back from dropping her off to find that another of my sweet darlings had taken the remainder of the coffee I'd made and had left a joyous mess of sugar sprinkles and a little half 'n half on the counter. One can imagine the glee of the ants.
I have so much work to do my face hurts just thinking about it, and as I write this I am on hold with tech support. That can't be good, can it? I still have a sink full of dishes and clearly I need to do laundry, plus the no-socks thing reminds me I've needed a pedicure for about a month. That's not relevant at all, but it pisses me off that I can do so much God blessed crap for everyone else but I can't get a God blessed pedicure.
I'm telling you all this because I have a beautiful life. My children are amazing, I love my husband and he's a great guy, my mom is a cutie pie, I'm healthy and have a happy home. But everybody has crap. Real life includes a lot of crap. And the less we hide our crap, the more we can treat one another with a little kindness and compassion when we're having an o.k. day and someone else isn't.
I hope your day is going ok today. If it's not, if it's a crappy day, I hope you have a better day tomorrow. Hang in there. They can't all be bad. Can they?
Tech support just hung up on me.