Yesterday, I had one of those days that lulls you into thinking that, despite bone-chilling temperatures, you are going to be just fine. The kids woke up with smiles and we made it through the morning routine with little nagging and we headed out into the subzero temperatures but were properly dressed and I actually thought, "It is just not that bad!"
And then something happened. I'm not sure exactly what - maybe I looked at the extended forecast or maybe my shoulder started itching or something.
All I know is that my mood plummeted and I could not seem to recover.
My lunch was horrible (tepid leftover tortellini that I ate while standing at the kitchen counter).
I ate a brownie (which was delicious but I had promised myself I wouldn't have any more brownies so obviously I am a horrible person for giving it to such temptation).
The phone rang and I answered because it was a local number and I was worried it was school but it was actually a robo call that started, "Dear Senior Citizen..."
I then sat on the couch vacillating between feeling lonely and missing Luisa terribly and feeling irrationally angry that she was in the Bahamas and could probably feel all of her toes.
And then I got my period.
After going back out into the tundra to pick up the kids, I started dinner and then texted Luisa to inform her that my day sucked and that I wanted a glass of wine but couldn't have one because I had to go BACK OUT INTO THE COLD to take the kids to the school play and GRRRRR and WHINE and UGH and, in texting with Luisa (and Esther and Deborah - all the wives!), I realized that I was also mad at myself for being so crabby. Why? Because I quit my soul-sucking job and am living my dream dammit! I should be happy all the time! But who can really be happy all the time? Labradoodles maybe but they don't seem that bright.
My mother would have told me to "suck it up" and "get over it" so I tried. I made dinner and I took the kids to the play and I laughed and I came home and got the kids in bed and cleaned up the kitchen and got coffee ready and went to bed.
This morning, I woke up in a tentative peace with life and I tried not to grind my teeth to dust when I saw that the air temperature was -14. Being able to feel your toes all the time is overrated, right? Then, I had to scrape the windshield and, in that brief time, Miguel and Zeca got into a brawl in the back seat of the car and, as I watched it unfold through the car window, I thought, "Here we go again. Another day like yesterday." So, I got in the car and growled at the kids and Zeca tried to explain why she knocked Miguel's head into the window (he breathed on her) and he tried to explain why he whacked her in the head (because of the window thing) and then I said "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT" and it was quiet which was nice because I wanted to be able to seethe in peace.
But then Miguel began singing the National Anthem in a Chipmunk voice and I started to laugh. And then he started singing the National Anthem as Beyonce and Zeca joined in and they did the most hilarious vocal runs and then I joined in and we all sang as Beyonce and, by the time I dropped them off at school, we were all laughing.
And now I am curled up on the couch under a wool blanket and Momo is on my lap and the day feels pretty good. The morning was one of those reminders that my kids are often a great source of stress with all the energy they require but they are also the best damn things to have happened to me.
What would my day have been like without two little Beyonces and the rockets red glare?
For a less grumpy post, check out my post at Lesbian Family this week: If You Give a Kid a Muffin...