I had a minor meltdown this morning. I locked myself in the bathroom, turned on the ceiling fan, and cried. We had been scurrying to get ready for school and work – the usual weekday morning mayhem. There wasn’t anything unusual about this morning. You never know when you’ve approached the end of your rope. At least I never know. I was brushing my teeth and the bathroom sink wouldn’t drain, and I lost it.
It’s not a big deal, I’ve fixed the drain before. Some days I just cannot handle one more thing.
This was not the plan. I was supposed to be happily married, raising two beautiful kids. I didn’t sign up to be both mom and dad.
Most days I wouldn’t trade this new life for anything. Most days I can take it all in stride. But, some days I am tired and feel like I can’t handle one more chore or one more demand. As difficult as it can be, it is worlds away from my old life.
Now when I flop on the bed at the end of the day, my exhaustion comes from attempting to cross things off of my list. When I decide to be done for the day, I don’t have someone expecting more from me. The hamster in the spinning wheel is pretty content when she’s in control of her own wheel. How happy is that hamster when someone else is doing the spinning?
On a busy weekday morning, I only have so much time to feel sorry for myself. The episode in the bathroom wasn’t going to last much longer than three minutes. I dried my eyes, looked in the mirror to fix mascara and hide the evidence, and opened the door to find my kids lip-syncing to Wayne Newton’s version of “Danke Schoen.” My kids’ taste in music is either a function of having older parents, or a weird mom. We listen to a little bit of everything. One of their current favorites is Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made For Walking.” I’m sure they don’t get the significance of that song, but it’s not lost on me.
There’s nothing like seeing those two, hands on their hips, wagging their fingers, and strutting across the living room, singing along with Nancy. If we weren’t able to laugh a lot, we’d be sad a lot.
Tomorrow is another day, with it’s own list of chores and responsibilities, and it’s own laughter and bright spots. After work and school and dinner and homework, I have to repair a bed, switch out the furnace filter, pay some bills and plan a birthday party. I know that what I don’t get done tomorrow will just be moved to the next day’s list. No one is going to give me a failing grade for not having crossed everything off.
It’s a good thing that bathroom fan is as loud as it is.
