I don’t look forward to youth group days, because that means that I’m a single mom for the day. It’s hard. If Geric dies young (God forbid!) I’m moving in with my mom and dad. I couldn’t do it! But, today was especially terrible. I hate days like these, where everything seems hard and everything goes wrong and by the end of the day you’re slightly amazed that everyone is still living.
I knew today was going to be bad when Caden started off the morning with a major meltdown. I was trying to get ready to see a friend from the school I used to work at while Geric was getting the boys ready and Caden was being a typical two year old and just freaking out! He only wanted me to get him ready and he wanted to brush his teeth 35 times and he didn’t want his hair brushed and he wouldn’t leave his binky in his bed and on and on and on. Everything was a battle and everything ended in screams and tears. It seems he’s like this on days when I’m excited to do something. It’s annoying.
Once we got to Sandy’s house, the bully came out. So after a little hair pulling, biting, two time outs, taking toys and yelling “MINE!” and some pushing and shoving, I decided to skip lunch and get home for a nap. I thought for sure he was just tired, right?
He was. He took a two and half hour nap and I thought he would wake up in better spirits, but alas, I was wrong. The whining and crying continued all through the errands I had to run and through the 45 minutes of traffic we sat in on the way back to our house. (Mind you, we never left Riverside.) I finally just let him play outside while I cooked dinner. While he was out there he stripped off all his clothes and played in the little pool in our backyard. He wasn’t whining so I figured I would just watch him through the window and hopefully he wouldn’t drown. (Don’t worry, the window was open and I looked out is a lot… he wouldn’t have drown.)
Somehow I managed to get through dinner, bathtime, and bedtime without losing my marbles. But now, as I sit here writing this I’m surrounded by four baskets of laundry that need to be folded, a sink full of dirty dishes, the mess from the dinner we ate, and Jacob is in my room crying. I know he’s teething. I gave him medicine.
I think this might be the straw. I can feel myself falling over the edge into insanity. I keep praying the little prayer Rachel told me about, “Lord, may my patience for my children far outweigh my love for them.”
Tomorrow will be a better day. It has to be.