Most Tuesdays I have a sitter who comes to stay with my youngest for a few hours while I do some me time. (Or do some things I hate doing with a two year old along.) Today I dropped the other kids off at school and headed to the local coffee shop to “get some stuff done”. “Stuff” is probably returning calls for needed doctors appointment for a few of us, looking for somewhere to stay for a future trip, making another damn grocery list, researching summer camps for the kids, and a few writing projects I need to get done.
But this morning I stared at my latte with the gorgeous milky leaf poured on top of it as I sunk into the worn leather couch and after a good twenty seconds, changed my immediate to do list. To dos: read some Anne Lamott and don’t cry too much. I really really just felt like doing a lot of crying and she always helps when I need to remember that life sucks, but then it doesn’t, or that there are terrible people and often you are one of them, but that too can change. Feel the feels, be they good or bad, and grace comes in. I don’t necessarily feel entirely turned around after taking in a short chapter, but certainly more human-ish.
Last night was rough, as many nights can be when you are raising a family. My husband is out of town and I was essentially up all night after the aggressive circus that was pre-bedtime. My six year old woke me at 11:45 with the exciting news that his snaggly snarly front tooth had finally come out! And he needed some water. And he needed a special place to put his tooth. Right at that very time. 8 year old was up at 1:15 with the continuation of a headache that wanted medicating. The two year old started his nightly one hour loud squealy chat-a-thon around 2:30 and at 4 decided to cry briefly. (At breakfast he actually coherently explained that he was talking to his puppies and teddy about his tiger stuffie. It sounded important and exciting whatever it was.) Some of these occurrences didn’t even wake me up. I was tossing, pacing, showering on and off since I am in the middle of another one of my unexplained itchy episodes that makes me want to remove the entirety of the skin below both knees.
First thing this morning? Some lovely compassionate hugs from my sweet boys who knew or sensed I was struggling. But then one turned totally not sweet and we had a completely shitty angry conversation before 7 AM. So not cool. Curse you completely average morning living with other humans!
And then… the email from the school district about a vague bomb threat they had received last night for a school in our area. They had investigated it and were not finding any evidence of it’s validity but needed to tell us so we could use our own judgement about whether our children should participate in business as usual in class. Uggh. This crap tailspins me.
So I watched my boys until the very last second as their Minion and Ninjago backpacks disappeared into school. And now I can’t complete my to do list, or even care about my crappy night. Because, to do lists and sleeplessness don’t matter when you are stuck in the “what if”?
So I guess I will just sit here and stare at my pretty coffee and wait for the grace to pop in for another visit.