Everyday Adventures: A Tale of a Bad Day
She looked down at her arm. What was that? It dawned on her. Snot. White crusty snot going from her shoulder to her elbow. She had no idea how long it had been there or if it belonged to her on her toddler but one thing was very clear - there were not enough cups of coffee in the world to make her care at this moment.
She surveyed the scene before her. The living room floor was a minefield of brightly colored plastic. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted laundry that was spilling out of it's basket and creating that unique musk of damp towels. She couldn't see that bathroom from her seat but she knew only atrocities awaited her there. Sweeping her eyes to the other side of the room, she saw a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes, and trash that needed taken out. She tried to remember the last time the floor was vacuumed and quickly added that to her mental to-do list.
She wanted to be productive. She wanted her husband to come home from a hard day of work to a clean house, a showered wife, and a delicious dinner. Right now though she was using all of her energy to try to breathe through her nose. She grabbed more toilet paper and blew her nose. The noise startled her toddler who had been occupied watching a brightly colored animal sing something "educational" on tv. Now that he realized mom was still there, he decided her needed to be on her lap. Once in her lap, he decided he also needed to nurse. She let out a sigh. She enjoyed the nursing relationship she had with her son; she really truly did. She just got a bit annoyed in the moment because he had just spent quite a bit of time nursing this morning and knew this was more of a comfort request. Her choice was say no and deal with the tears, distracting, and the like or say yes and get to stay right where she was on the couch. In her weakened state it was barely a choice.
She got him situated on the couch with her and resumed her quest to breathe normally. As he gulped away happily. She felt was if he was guzzling down the last bit of strength she had in her body. Everything hurt. She would pay any amount of money to be able to take a hot bath and then slip into a Nyquil-induced coma for about 8 hours. But as the cold medicine commercial says, you can't call in sick to parenthood.
When her son was once again occupied by the tv, she shoved herself off the couch. She turned the coffee maker on and got some yogurt and fruit out for her son to eat. She knew she should eat too but found nothing appealing. Grabbing some crackers and her cup of coffee, she called from her son to come eat.
As her son sat eating breakfast, she decided that they might both benefit from some sunshine. The outdoors always seemed to make them both happier people. She realized it was a humid summer day, but she thought maybe all the heat and sun would get her an earlier nap time. Once breakfast was cleaned up, sunscreen applied, diaper changed, and shoes put on, they ventured outside. The second they stepped on the porch that thick summer heat hit her and nearly took her breath away. "I may have made a mistake," she thought. She considered turning right back around and going in, but foreseeing the meltdown that choice would bring she determined to make the most of it while she could. Even 20 minutes outside would be better than sitting on the couch all day.
She needed to check the garden to see if there were any veggies that needed picked. They made their way to the garden and started walking through the rows. Her pepper plants were not producing much despite her best efforts. As she looked at the second plant in the row, she discovered a huge green worm munching away on her precious plants. She shrieked in horror at the brazen thievery taking place right before her eyes. The shriek startled her son so much, he started sobbing. She was a mess of a woman in her garden, trying to at the same time comfort her startled son and annihilate the hostile operative in her garden. Within a few minutes, both situations were resolved, so she kept checking the plants.
The longer they were outside, the more bugs seemed to be swarming them. The sweat bees were basically a cloud around them at this point. Thinking that maybe the garden was the reason for the increase of bug activity, she started making her way out. Before she had taken two steps, she found herself being dive bombed by fly after fly. Each fly was a little bigger than the last. Each fly more bold in their annoyance mission. When she started getting bites on her legs, she grabbed her son and ran to the back yard in an effort to keep him from enduring the same fate.
The back yard was just as much of a hot bed for bug activity as the front. They tried to enjoy the swing set and instead spent the whole time swinging fruitlessly at the bugs. They started pushing the trucks through the rocks, and found themselves pushed the the brink of sanity by the incessant swarming.
True to form though, her son still wanted to stay outside. She started giving him the countdown to end the futility. "In 5 minutes we are going inside. Ok?" "K," he said back. She turned to find some place to sit down and watch him play. Before she could take a step, she heard him say, "Bee. Bee." She whipped her head around to see a bee had in fact landed on his arm. In moment of rash thinking and first-time-mom-panic, she swatted his arm with the full force of strength she could muster in that moment. As she watched the bee fly away, she heard the guttural sounds of sobs start to rise to the surface from deep within her son. The "Et tu, Mommy" was written all over his face. She scooped him up and rushed inside. She was done fighting the elements today.
The day kept spiraling downward from there. The moment they got inside, her wonderful son spilled her entire cup of vitamin drink on the floor. Her very mature and tempered response caused her son to once again have a complete meltdown, after her refused to talk or look at her for a full 5 minutes out of sheer terror at what he just witnessed. He alternated between sobbing to wanting to nurse and refusing to nap for the next two hours until finally giving in to the exhaustion for the briefest of times. They were both pretty despondent by the time her husband got home. Her son and her had both reached a point of no return in their terrible attitudes and physical exhaustion. To put it bluntly, they all put up with each other and walked around the mess until bedtime. Sinking into bed, she silently prayed for rest for the whole family and a chance to do it better tomorrow.
She surveyed the scene before her. The living room floor was a minefield of brightly colored plastic. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted laundry that was spilling out of it's basket and creating that unique musk of damp towels. She couldn't see that bathroom from her seat but she knew only atrocities awaited her there. Sweeping her eyes to the other side of the room, she saw a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes, and trash that needed taken out. She tried to remember the last time the floor was vacuumed and quickly added that to her mental to-do list.
She wanted to be productive. She wanted her husband to come home from a hard day of work to a clean house, a showered wife, and a delicious dinner. Right now though she was using all of her energy to try to breathe through her nose. She grabbed more toilet paper and blew her nose. The noise startled her toddler who had been occupied watching a brightly colored animal sing something "educational" on tv. Now that he realized mom was still there, he decided her needed to be on her lap. Once in her lap, he decided he also needed to nurse. She let out a sigh. She enjoyed the nursing relationship she had with her son; she really truly did. She just got a bit annoyed in the moment because he had just spent quite a bit of time nursing this morning and knew this was more of a comfort request. Her choice was say no and deal with the tears, distracting, and the like or say yes and get to stay right where she was on the couch. In her weakened state it was barely a choice.
She got him situated on the couch with her and resumed her quest to breathe normally. As he gulped away happily. She felt was if he was guzzling down the last bit of strength she had in her body. Everything hurt. She would pay any amount of money to be able to take a hot bath and then slip into a Nyquil-induced coma for about 8 hours. But as the cold medicine commercial says, you can't call in sick to parenthood.
When her son was once again occupied by the tv, she shoved herself off the couch. She turned the coffee maker on and got some yogurt and fruit out for her son to eat. She knew she should eat too but found nothing appealing. Grabbing some crackers and her cup of coffee, she called from her son to come eat.
As her son sat eating breakfast, she decided that they might both benefit from some sunshine. The outdoors always seemed to make them both happier people. She realized it was a humid summer day, but she thought maybe all the heat and sun would get her an earlier nap time. Once breakfast was cleaned up, sunscreen applied, diaper changed, and shoes put on, they ventured outside. The second they stepped on the porch that thick summer heat hit her and nearly took her breath away. "I may have made a mistake," she thought. She considered turning right back around and going in, but foreseeing the meltdown that choice would bring she determined to make the most of it while she could. Even 20 minutes outside would be better than sitting on the couch all day.
She needed to check the garden to see if there were any veggies that needed picked. They made their way to the garden and started walking through the rows. Her pepper plants were not producing much despite her best efforts. As she looked at the second plant in the row, she discovered a huge green worm munching away on her precious plants. She shrieked in horror at the brazen thievery taking place right before her eyes. The shriek startled her son so much, he started sobbing. She was a mess of a woman in her garden, trying to at the same time comfort her startled son and annihilate the hostile operative in her garden. Within a few minutes, both situations were resolved, so she kept checking the plants.
The longer they were outside, the more bugs seemed to be swarming them. The sweat bees were basically a cloud around them at this point. Thinking that maybe the garden was the reason for the increase of bug activity, she started making her way out. Before she had taken two steps, she found herself being dive bombed by fly after fly. Each fly was a little bigger than the last. Each fly more bold in their annoyance mission. When she started getting bites on her legs, she grabbed her son and ran to the back yard in an effort to keep him from enduring the same fate.
The back yard was just as much of a hot bed for bug activity as the front. They tried to enjoy the swing set and instead spent the whole time swinging fruitlessly at the bugs. They started pushing the trucks through the rocks, and found themselves pushed the the brink of sanity by the incessant swarming.
True to form though, her son still wanted to stay outside. She started giving him the countdown to end the futility. "In 5 minutes we are going inside. Ok?" "K," he said back. She turned to find some place to sit down and watch him play. Before she could take a step, she heard him say, "Bee. Bee." She whipped her head around to see a bee had in fact landed on his arm. In moment of rash thinking and first-time-mom-panic, she swatted his arm with the full force of strength she could muster in that moment. As she watched the bee fly away, she heard the guttural sounds of sobs start to rise to the surface from deep within her son. The "Et tu, Mommy" was written all over his face. She scooped him up and rushed inside. She was done fighting the elements today.
The day kept spiraling downward from there. The moment they got inside, her wonderful son spilled her entire cup of vitamin drink on the floor. Her very mature and tempered response caused her son to once again have a complete meltdown, after her refused to talk or look at her for a full 5 minutes out of sheer terror at what he just witnessed. He alternated between sobbing to wanting to nurse and refusing to nap for the next two hours until finally giving in to the exhaustion for the briefest of times. They were both pretty despondent by the time her husband got home. Her son and her had both reached a point of no return in their terrible attitudes and physical exhaustion. To put it bluntly, they all put up with each other and walked around the mess until bedtime. Sinking into bed, she silently prayed for rest for the whole family and a chance to do it better tomorrow.
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