Y’all, it’s finally naptime. I woke up this morning wondering if I was sick; my body was achy and I was fatigued. J was in my bed at the actual crack of dawn, one weak sunbeam pouring through the crack in my curtains. He was soon followed by EK, who joined the Netflix-on-Mom’s-phone party, but at that point there were too many people in the bed. After sending them downstairs with a one-ton container of grapes, I crawled back in the bed to see if I could snooze.
It didn’t get better from there.
I’ve been on edge, grumpy, and just plain yuck all day. The big kids haven’t been much better, having gotten up so early. They haven’t eaten well, or played well together, which recently hasn’t been a problem. The baby was his usual bright self, but with 3x the normal number of poops and a mad diaper rash at the end of them.
In short, it’s a proverbial Monday.
People always talk about how Monday is the worst. The weekend is over, the workplace is full of grumpy people, the students are tired, the joy and freedom of being unscheduled and just having fun has worn off. But for my family, Monday is usually the best. Hubby and I never work on Mondays. The kids don’t have preschool, and so we try to make it a family fun day. We have lunch out. We go to the park. We watch a movie together. Whatever it looks like, we try to have fun together since there’s no agenda. But not today.
Monday jumped up and bit us all in the ass.
So now, in a blessed moment of quiet, Hubby is doing some dinner prep, and I’m sipping hot tea and writing. To pour out the words somehow gives my feelings a bit of validation, but it also begins to wash those feelings away. Giving myself an opportunity to complain a little can be the start to eradicating the bad feelings. Just need to get out of my own head, realize it’s my attitude (well, and the kids’) that’s causing most of the problems, and pull my bootstraps up to a different mindset.
Here’s to hot tea and quiet moments.