I started this Friday morning seeking something. I think I was looking for peace, maybe contentment. I was anticipating a new day. The kind of day that would be better than yesterday.
At 6 a.m. my four year old screamed and then ran to my room. She said she heard a scary sound. I settled her down and a few minutes later Stephen crawled back into our bed after sleeping downstairs most of the night because he was on call. I moved Bailey to the couch and crawled back into bed myself for 20 minutes.
By 6:30 a.m. I was in the kitchen making a special Valentine’s Day breakfast. Actually, I had to make two meals: one for Riley and Lily and one for Bailey that was egg, milk, and peanut free. I did pumpkin muffins for my food allergy kid and homemade heart pancakes for the other two. All was going well and then I dropped an egg. My response was anything but lovely. I used some words you don’t usually find on Valentine’s Day cards. Now we had a hazmat situation on our hands due to Bailey’s severe egg allergy. I can’t just leave the mess for later. So Stephen and I cleaned it up together and he packed Lily’s lunch since it was becoming obvious there wouldn’t be enough Welbutrin to get me through the morning.
I put breakfast on the table and forgot about the cute heart plates and napkins I bought for this morning. Oh well. As I pressed my less than cooperative heart cookie cutter into the pancakes, one daughter announced that she didn’t want pancakes. It took every ounce of my being not to throw those damn (but really cute) hearts across the room. Stephen gave her some pumpkin muffins and I stepped away from the kitchen before I said something I would regret. I heard Bailey announce the scary sound that woke her early was her own breathing.
Teeth were brushed, backpacks sat ready, and the girls were getting dressed. One is wearing pants that are too short because they are part of her approved three pant rotation. I’ll spare you the details of that situation. Another claimed her shirt “felt weird on her skin.” Lord have mercy. The third could sense the tension and did everything on her own. Yes, my most independent today was my youngest.
I didn’t find what I was seeking, at least not yet. I might not find it tomorrow either. But it has to be better than this morning, right? So here’s to all the moms, dads, and caregivers looking for a better day. It WILL come but it might not look exactly the way we were hoping. In the meantime just take a deep breath and try not to drop any eggs.