We were delayed leaving due to Cole's need to poop, then my children's bowel movements worked against me again when we had to stop for Aiden to poop. Stopping for a public poop is no fun.
Stella slept a lot in the car though and the boys were mostly amused by their songs and asking me a variety of questions about the how's and why's of the world that I am inadequate at answering. Lots of.... how does a car start? Why does someone give you money when you pay for something? Why is it called change if it's money? Is a Stormtrooper a person?
When we arrived home though I immediately felt stressed. My children's poop delays forced me to miss a baby shower of a dear friend which made me feel like my children ruin everything.
Yes, that is a totally rational statement. They sort of do.
I realize this is mainly my fault for not leaving even earlier from Houston and anticipating that there would be at least two stops and that each could last up to 30 minutes, but geez. That's how they roll though. They're totally free.
I felt disappointed about missing out and it quickly turned into an overwhelming feeling of frustration about not being able to ever get my shit together lately. I like to blame my kids because that makes me feel a little better, but the truth is that I'm the adult and I'm in charge and if I want anything to happen, I'm in control of that.
I actually sort of think that's a lie. Can I control when they poop? No. Can I continue to pray for regularly scheduled, fast bowel movements aided by a high fiber diet? Yes. Will even regular and fast poop change how they will continue to make things much more difficult? Hell no.
I'd like to say I wouldn't have it any other way, but the truth is I would. I would really like to have it another way. I know one day we will be there and I won't be singing the ABC's and random camp songs in a Starbucks bathroom for 30 minutes while one son dances, one son poops and I pretend to be happy dancing with a baby in my arms. I want it to be a little less work to drive 175 miles.
They're kids though, they are going to jack me up here and there, and they are definitely going to need to poop at inopportune times, but if I don't get over feeling like my tasks are too many and my moments too few, I'm going to scream.
Or start doing meth. I probably could plow through my to-do list and my want-to-do list with some meth.
(I feel like this is my "thing" to mention now. Please do not be concerned that I will actually be approaching anyone to purchase meth or googling "how to make my own meth" any time in the near future. It's my lack of creativity rearing it's ugly head in that I keep mentioning my belief that starting this handy drug would solve my problems. I'm still not saying that it wouldn't though.)
I feel constantly behind, the to-do list far too lengthy for any true progress in and amongst all this keeping my children alive and well stuff and well, there's also The Bachelorette. Where would I be without the knowledge of Ashley's intricate decision making process on her journey to find true love?
I'll tell you, more lost and cranky than I am even now, or potentially more productive and less stressed because I would finally figure out in the hell to add, design, and change a button on my blog.
It's so painful for me to figure these sorts of things out in the stolen moments.
After being away for five days, coming in to my house I felt this cloud of doom fall over me. I felt like I was smacked in the face by the amount of dust and grime and clutter which has been accumulating in my home over the last few weeks. My hours spent blogging and child rearing and that hour, fine two hours, devoted to TV had caught up to me and I felt like I weighed a million pounds in tasks left undone.
I fought the urge to get weak and teary and instead went the other way, which is so much more fun for the family, and turned into a bit of a bitch. Alex, my gorgeous and sweet husband was waiting happily for our return and would have done anything I asked, but instead I mumbled cranky statements of martyrdom alternated with silence that reeked of undeserving ill-will when he graciously took our family out to lunch or asked me over and over what I wanted.
Dear God I love this man. When I am in this state he is always the perfect balance of patience mixed with "buck up sister," that I need. He waited out my toxic mood as I silently stuffed my face with Chick-fil-a and complained about....well, everything.
I finally did buck up a little and told Alex that what I needed was a weekend of getting some stuff done. I needed us to hold our children more accountable for cleaning their stuff up and helping. I needed my van to not look like some sort of toy or snack factory had exploded, because I'm already driving a minivan, having it littered in raisins, gum wrappers and toys is like pouring salt on my raw transportation wound.
So we did it. I dusted and scrubbed and vacuumed and pathetically still didn't clean the whole house but I felt a lot better. Alex and the kids tackled the van and this is what came out of it.
Despite appearances, Aiden was really helpful. Stella was a horrible help but did provide much amusement. Cole mainly cried.
I think I have been feeling like there is no way I can commit to cleaning the house, cooking, darning Alex's socks*, taking care of the kids, blogging, sewing the kids clothes*, reading and trying to grow the blog, laundry, responding to emails, making our soap*, setting up play dates, exercising, and just keeping up with life without my head exploding.
(*These were added for affect. I felt they added a certain amount of impressive challenge that not every woman has to take on and in that way made my plight sound more dramatic than people with just normal life. In actuality I am only filled with normal life frustrations. Praise God.)
I have a to-do list that I make every morning and the last few weeks I have barely marked off one or two things. It's a pretty sad display of productivity....but I feel like I never stop. How can this be? Am I really spending that much time picking up random things I find around the house and folding laundry that I can't make it to number three on the list? Ugh.
Saturday night we went out for a friend's birthday dinner and being amongst adults came at a fantastic time. It make me feel human again. Church Sunday morning did an even better job of helping me refocus and recommit to just pulling myself out of my whiny funk of tasks.
I decided I just need to get more adequately organized. I also decided that most or all of my problems could be solved this this popular kitchen tool you might have seen on late night infomercials a few years back.
I agree, it's a horrible picture, but one element of my reorganization is managing my expectations. Or just straight up lowering them.
Yes, we are now the proud owners of a Magic Bullet. It's going to be life altering, I can feel it.
It really doesn't have anything to do with me getting my shit together but it was pretty exciting for me, which is sort of sad. I already used it to make milkshakes this afternoon for the boys. Fantastic. I'm sure you'll be hearing a lot more about the ways the Magic Bullet is changing me in future posts.
Please don't stop reading.
I also finally organized my desk area so I could write there and post important things like quotes from Oprah. It also gives me a place to keep my to-do list that haunts me every day. I feel like I can make things happen there. I'm going places now people, I have a desk.
Remember, we lowered our photography expectations, right?
It's nice to end the weekend feeling a little hopeful. I feel like I might be able to scratch a few things off the list tomorrow, like taking my defensive driving papers to the courthouse and conquering my pile of laundry. If not, at least I'll have a big ass pile of clothing to hide under when the police come to arrest me for skipping out on this ticket.
Maybe slacking has it's perks?
Either way, I have got to get it together and stop feeling so overwhelmed by this blog, by my kids, by my life...it's sort of pathetic and ridiculous.
I sort of feel like I could write a book called that, It's Sort Of Pathetic and Ridiculous. I'm totally adding "write book" to the to-do list for tomorrow.
Just a general FYI, if you have taken the time to send me a comment or an email, thank you! I cherish hearing from people and it makes this whole thing worth it.
I try to respond to everyone that comments, but some of you have your emails on your blogger profile marked as private, which makes it tough for me to hunt down how to get a message to you.
Sometimes I can do it by going to your blog and searching out your email there, but some of you are so darn sneaky I can't find it there. If you have even a slight desire to hear from me will you allow your email to be connected to your comment? It doesn't show on my blog, but it means I can reply to you.
Also, sometimes I read them and am swamped with stuff and then I am a horrible person and forget to go back through all my emails to reply. Horrible excuse.
So....I read and cherish them all, never do I not smile or feel slightly lightened by your words.
Well, unless you are being really cruel, but I haven't had one of those for a while...maybe I'm off my game?
Bobbi, your comment brought me so much joy! I can't figure out how to contact you though!
The Round Rock Mom that just moved here? I'd love to email you so get in touch with me.