Currently in my google bar is, “why are three-year olds insane”, in my hand is a cup of easy now tea, on my body is the coziest pajamas I own, in my nose is the scent of the soothing nag champa.
Pampering was necessary, for it was one hell of a morning.
Of course the grocery is never exactly calming, but I must say today in particular was a doozy. Damn those carts with the cars on the front! Damn them! The buckles are always broken, my children always escape (in opposite directions), or climb on top, or beat each other to a pulp, or most embarrassing of all: They are so difficult to maneuver they cause me to crash into every display and every other patron constantly!
Sigh… I am sure these are miniscule problems. But, in the thick of it all, when I received an angry phone call from my landlord wondering why I was not at home when the scheduled dish washer repair man was so patiently waiting, well… I became that lady. Tears were streaming down my face while I was waiting in the astronomically long line (of course only one lane was open.. of course!) my children were going just plain old berserk, all the while I held the phone to my ear listening to the man lace into me. It was so ugly not one person even dared make eye contact with me. Just too awkward I think. The poor bagger boy was desperately trying to calm my children with bribes of opening snacks and juices as I had all but given up on the task at hand.
I raced home to find that all was well, and well? …a few burnt carrots had been so graciously lodged into the back of our washer. And that was all. Granted my boys just couldn’t keep their paws off the repair mans tools or legs or backs, and they most certainly wouldn’t hear of using indoor voices, all in all- Dishwasher is unclogged. Dishes are now conveniently cleaned.
Books were read. Children tucked in. Mama soaked in a hot bath tub full of lavender, followed by a lingering session of yoga.
These days. They can be so good, but holy moly they can be so so bad. Today, I just wanted to outright give up, hoist up the white flag, crawl under the rug, pour a shot of whiskey, you know the works. I was reduced to an apologizing crying stressed out mama.
I would like to sum this post up with a bit of inspiration, but alas I have not a drop. Those two boys got the best of me today. They surely did.
Luckily for Thich Nhat Hanh and new years resolutions. And of course the unity I find in googling such things. It appears I am not the first one who has hammered such a phrase into the search bar with a twitching eyeball. Nor will I be the last.
Lucky he is cute.