When a bad mood slips away

Last Saturday was a really shitty day. I can't even tell you why.

I'm sure that it had something to do with a stupid comment from Dan. And I'm sure that three hours into my total turned-down mouth grumpiness, I forgot what it was he said in the first place, but the mood persisted. I was mad at the world and at the day - for not being perfect, again.

Early in the afternoon our babysitter texted to ask what time to get to our house so Dan and I could go out. I wanted to reply "Don't Bother," because I was in such a shitty mood, but I knew better. So I sat on it, hoping I'd feel better, knowing that I shouldn't give up the opportunity to welcome the sitter into our house and give us a break.

In the meantime, I left the house alone and went to the grocery store. I have a love/HATE relationship with grocery shopping. But we desperately needed the food. It had been a good 4 weeks since my last real shop.

I rushed out the door in a huff - Dan had said another stupid something, I'm sure - but I had at least made a list. Ripped a bunch of recipes out of Real Simple, and jotted down the ingredients. We planned on having friends over for a Cookout on Sunday, so there were lots of extras to get. I started checking off my list and by the time I got out of produce and deli, I was already running up quite a bill and starting to feel better as the food piled on top. My mood and my cart coincided, filling up. All about Aisle 12 someone stopped me and remarked on my brimming shopping cart. She offered me a 5% off coupon on my entire purchase. I smiled big - BIG - and told her that was the very coupon I wasn't able to find when I left the house. And then I turned the corner and passed through the pasta aisle, where an older gentleman joked with me and told me I better "take out some insurance on that cart." I grew lighter and happier still. When I turned down the next aisle I met with the coupon angel again and she said, "Give me that coupon back, I'm gonna switch that for my 10% off. I'd rather see someone save a lot of money instead of the few bucks that it's gonna give me." I was amazed. When does this happen? It doesn't.

But apparently, it does. And of course I couldn't thank her enough. But I tried. I was tickled by the kindness of a stranger, and already nourished by simply buying food for my family - a thing that is a necessity, and should be just another thing that we do. But for me, it never is. It is always difficult. With three kids, it'll never be easy. But I was never good at it when there was just one kid.

So while the early part of Saturday was really shitty, and I still can't tell you why, I can tell you that it didn't last through the night. I reigned in my bad mood at the store, and when the babysitter arrived I could happily chat with her, and feel the relief of another pair of eyes to watch, arms to hug, hands to help in my home.

I have to write a bit about our babysitter, whom I'm not sure I really like calling a babysitter, because it seems so trivial. Sure, my kids are my babies, and she sits with them, but she does so much more than *watch* them. She laughs and laughs and laughs and I hope it's okay that I use her name here, because Kelsey, you are so damn terrific and have become a part of this family and I am so thrilled that you are back from college and with us for another summer. (deep breath) I wish I could pay her more and more and more, because she gives my kids something that I can't give them on a lot of days, on most days: her attention, her smile, and her bright, shining light.

When Kelsey arrived the funny banter between me and Dan started, as it often does with others around. We playfully mock one another, saying things out loud that make other people open their eyes wide with a little bit of shock and a little bit of embarrassment. Everyone laughs. We somehow show our love for one another through this catty banter, stomping on and then lifting up our relationship with each little detail we reveal, like it's a game. Which it is. Marriage. A part of it has to be playful or we won't get through it. I have to remember to keep a sense of humor; it's so easy to take offense. But when Kelsey is around, everything feels light and funny and Dan and I do this playful thing. Maybe it's because Kelsey is young and we want to feel young around her, so we do this. But I think it's probably just who she is - light and bright and full of sun.

It's the kindness of others that brings me around to the now.

I saved $38 dollars at the grocery store.
Kelsey came and dropped glitter on everything around her.

I'm positive my family was grateful for the kindness of others as well.
I got happy again.
Everybody smiled, because it never fails that mom's mood sets the tone.
Dan and I went out for Margaritas.
And then for a too-pricey, totally yummy Italian Dinner.
And talked and talked as we do when we sit and eat at the bar and drink and remember that we can do this, we can be free again, of spills and wrestling boys.

In response to Dr. Sears, Mommy Burnout, and the fight I had with my husband this morning

I am so terrifically mad at my husband right now that I want to spit. I shouldn't even be writing about this here. It's not a place to give people the wrong impression that I live with a terrible person or something. That's not the case, so please take it as only a moment in time, a moment in my mind that I absolutely must purge before it throws me down under where I can't think of anything else, where I breathe anger, eat anger and cry anger. And please be kind enough to deal with the run-on sentences, as that is how my mind thinks at a time like this - there is no rhyme or reason, just that crazy stream of consciousness that IS getting your thoughts out as quick as you can before they vanish and you move on to trying to be reasonable. I don't want to be reasonable right now. I want to scream. And it's not PMS, dammit, it's just me. Sometimes it's like this. Sometimes I'm mad. At people other than my children. At my husband. And at myself.

I no longer keep any kind of a diary or journal. It's always been my tendency to write in one when I was mad anyway, leaving the times of joy and satisfaction to speak for themselves. Using the pen and the paper to work through the madness and rage that come when you are truly in despair, or just need to vent. So I suppose this land of blog is the closest thing I have to an open book and an inky pen. The only difference being that I no longer write only when disturbed, and not only about the disturbing. Although I must say that an awful lot of what has come out so far is about how difficult and seemingly tortuous it is on most days to parent three children, while working, while wife-ing, while housekeeping... But it's not all tortuous. I realize I must be giving off the wrong impression. Oh well. It's one post at a time and this time it's about how it's just so easy to burn the fuck out.

I recently searched online for the identity of someone's mysterious rash, or the reason for their fever, or what it means when poop is yellow, or what will happen to me if I don't start getting a full night's sleep SOON (I'm starting to think my synapses will stop firing and I'll no longer be able to retain new information let alone access the facts I thought I already knew or the memories I told myself I'd never forget. Oh wait, that's already happening. Shit!) I found an article relating to my current problem at Dr. Sears and now I get a monthly newsletter. Monthly Shmonthly, who has the time to read more mommy tips? Not me. So I usually pause my finger on the delete button just long enough to read three or four words and then send the thing off to the land of Junk E-mails and Advertisements. On Monday I read the words, Avoiding Mommy Burnout. Hmm, I thought. What does Dr. Sears have to say about Avoiding Mommy Burnout? I truly imagined the article to be a compilation of all the things that other mothers would love to tell you when you were pregnant with your first babe: sleep when he sleeps and take lots of walks, etc. etc. etc. Read it for yourself if you like. It's not so bad, but I think it mostly applies to infancy, and ONE child!

Today I have my own special segment on what it takes to Avoid Mommy Burnout:

Part I

• Be honest with yourself and with your partner
• Resolve arguments with your partner
• Have more sex with your partner

Now, I know this excludes all single parents out there, and I apologize. And obviously these first three tips are directly related to the fact that everything I do and say right now is tainted with anger for my husband and our argument this morning. An argument, mind you, that was merely about whether it should be a rule or not that my oldest son always wear a t-shirt under his long-sleeved shirt. Yes, I know, you had to be there. How can I be so alarmingly upset over something so seemingly trivial? But with every argument there is a backstory, right? The feelings of stress and anger that rise up during one of these fights brings forth a flood of annoying moments that I never worked through. Reasons to be mad. Even more mad. Words that were spoken and hurt; words that were never spoken and should have been. And it all relates to feelings of overall burnout or, as I think more appropriately termed, burn UP, cause that's how I feel when it all becomes too much: over-fueled, breathing heavy, ashen.

There is an overwhelming responsibility in being the mother of a family. As Jen said, the appointed CEO. And no, I never wanted my own business either. But this business of family is quite serious. You are responsible for the lives and well-being of these little people. It's a good thing they make you laugh along the way because otherwise it might seem like a burden. (Okay, Nah!) So, tips to avoid Mommy Burnout? I'm gonna give it another go but would love to hear from others out there.

Part II

• Try not to stay mad - at anyone, including yourself
• Get exercise - mostly the kids so they're worn out by sunset, but you should get off your ass too and increase those endorphins!
  
• Have plenty of sex - again with the endorphins and, uh, the other parts of your body you can't always see
• Don't take any advice you wouldn't give
• Have plenty of popsicles on hand
  
• Speak freely and at great length with someone you feel most connected to - that's you, Jen
• Forget about perfection - use the word only to describe your children (on a good day)
  
• Remember that you are what you eat - if you eat junk, you'll feel like junk
• Let your mother feel guilt, fear and remorse, you don't have time for it
• Hire someone to clean your house if you can (thanks, ME, I think I might!)
• Breathe and believe - in yourself, in time, and in your kids

So I look at this list and I think that I should start taking my own advice. I'm worn out, you see, from this morning's argument. It has permeated every action thus far today - my angry driving, the extra cup of coffee, ignoring my growling stomach, buckling down at work and accomplishing the I HATE TO DO IT pile that I'm always accumulating. But I sit now and breathe out loud once, now twice, and feel, for a calm moment, that the whistling down the hall won't bother me, the ringing phones and the intercom will no longer jar me, that this anger I feel toward my husband for all the things he is and for all the things he is not will surely fade. And I will feel, once again, lucky for my life.

I think I'll tack this list to my cork board in the office.
I think I'll tack this list to my mirror by the bed, and by the kitchen sink.
I think I'll make it a point to add a similar list to our site, and continue to add to it.

Because I need a hundred reminders in a day just how to make it through with grace instead of by the skin of my teeth. And that I'm lucky. I'm oh so lucky to have a man and three boys share my world. Even if they make me spit flames from time to time.

Droopy

I'm just too droopy today. Is it because it's Monday? I dunno.

No, no. I think it's the contacts I'm wearing today. They are making everything appear a little cloudy. Cloudy -- droopy. They go together.

So here's the story about the glasses. Dan and I were cuddled on the couch Saturday night watching Twilight under a big huge down comforter. Crow Crow goes the baby over and over again. Okay, I'll get him a bottle (good god, he's GOT to stick to a pattern of sleeping through the night!)

I crawled back into the cocoon of the comforter. Since the movie was already paused I turned to Dan and make that goofy googly eye face that means, I can't believe we have to plan every intimate moment but oh well, Wanna Have a Go at It? Needless to say he was like, yeah, SHHHHHHHHHure! I oh-so-suavely pulled my glasses over my face and my hair and politely dropped them beside the couch. Softly thunking to the ground, we then buried ourselves even deeper under the blanket, fidgeted with clothes and limbs and came out from it all somewhat sweaty, touching each other sweetly and ahhhh (deep breath) calm.

The movie had been paused too long. We had to find the remote and restart it and fast forward and, oh, ick! where the hell is the damn remote. Mostly naked under the covers, okay, totally naked, and pressed against Dan, the ultimate heat machine, I wasn't so very happy to be searching the cushions, the tables, the floor for that dang remote. It was like 50 degrees in the house, but here I go throwing off the covers and tromping about - smoosh, crack, f--k! My glasses. Snapped em right in half at the bridge. Now these have lasted through countless pulls and tugs and scratches from the little ones, my own recklessness aside. And now, smoosh, crack, F--K! Every good moment just has to have a down side, doesn't it? I just picked them up and looked at them and thought, oh the f--k well. Oh well.

But here I am with 2 year old lenses in my eyes, the ones the doc could never get quite right, so everything is somewhat blurry most of the time. If I'm just walking around the house, all is well, but reading and focusing on small letters and numbers I'm squinching and squirching and wondering if I'll be a slave to my glasses for my whole life, if I should take the plunge and get the Laser Surgery.