Thursday, June 21, 2012
Most days don’t find us going anywhere special.
While I would love to travel every few weeks, finances, work and exhaustion keep us from that.
Most days around here are the same.
If you are a mom, you know what that means.
It means there is a never-ending list of things to do. By never ending I mean it NEVER ENDS.
I often wake in the morning with a sense of dread about all there is to do that day. I don’t cherish the morning as a time to start anew with these precious creatures residing in this home.
Some days I feel overwhelmed to the point of tears.
Sunday was one of those days.
I try to clean the house on Sundays because that is when the hubby is home. It’s just that waking up knowing I have a lot of cleaning to do later in the day isn’t the best way to start any day, let alone a Sunday. It’s also a time when I begin to fret about what all needs to be done in the week ahead.
This past Sunday, Father’s Day no less, I had a meltdown on the way to church. It had been brewing for a while, but something about the hubby not responding when I made a comment about having to get gas on the way home set me off.
Yes, you read that correctly. I blew my lid over gas. ON-THE-WAY-TO-CHURCH.
A year’s worth of anxiety and stress came pouring out.
It was a relief once I unloaded it all. It was also a relief that the baby fell asleep in the car so I didn't have to put on a fake smile and go into church. The hubby and the little boy went in while I sat in the car with her and listened to the sermon on the radio.
I felt terrible a couple hours later when our waitress asked my husband if he was having a good Father’s Day. He nodded and smiled and said what she expected to hear. I’m sure what he really wanted to say was: “No. My anal wife just dumped on me the entire way to church, and I’d rather be anywhere but near her at this moment.”
I’ve often wondered what people would think if we gave them the real answers - whether it's a stranger in a restaurant, a greeter at church or a friend on the phone. Not the polite responses they expect, but the real, truthful, hard answer.
That would cause many an awkward moment, but it might also lead to a real connection.
I also know that instead of greeting each day with a negative outlook, I should be grateful that EVERYTHING IS the same.
Same means we are all healthy. Same means we are all together. Same means that I have children to clean up after. Same means I have a husband that loves me. Same means that life is a blessing. Same means that life is good around here.
Come to think of it, I’ll take same any day of the week.