From Anger to Grateful in Under 60 seconds

To say I was in a bad mood yesterday morning would be an understatement. It all started the night before and carried right over to the next morning.

Monday evening the girls had been sniping at each ever since they got home from school, the baby wouldn't stop fussing as I was trying to cook dinner, I had been trying to fold a pile of laundry on the sofa off and on all day, but every time I started folding something would interrupt me, like the baby crying, the phone ringing, the baby poohing, the cat throwing up, the baby crying, the cat getting into the trash, the baby poohing, the cat throwing up, the phone ringing, etc. In the middle of all the evening chaos, I walked into the living room only to discover that the 4 year old had knocked over the part of the laundry that I had managed to get neatly folded. I lost it. I had one of those, "If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times!" tirades with both of them. I did get an apology from both of the girls, but I was still totally annoyed. I went to bed tired and grumpy, and I woke up tired and grumpy yesterday morning with a full day ahead.

Each year the kids' school has Grandparents' Day, which is a really big deal with performances from each grade, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I woke up, fed, bathed, and dressed the baby, got the 4 year old ready for school in an absolutely gorgeous heirloom dress that her grandmother made for her, woke up the 12 year old, got breakfast for the 4 year old (okay, it was just a pop tart, but I had to hover over her making certain she didn't get blueberry filling all over her pretty dress), and feed the cat all before having a cup of coffee. Usually G. helps out with getting the kids ready on mornings like this, but he had to log in to work instead because of an issue that came up. After he got off the computer and showered, he took the kids to school so I could get ready.

I placed the baby in the infant swing, got in the shower, and as soon as I lathered up, the baby began to scream and scream and scream. So I rinsed as quickly as I could, but apparently not quickly enough, because I ran out of hot water just as I was getting the shampoo out of my hair, dried off, and picked the baby up to comfort him. For some inexplicable reason, he was inconsolable. I checked his diaper; it was still dry. I tried to nurse him; he wasn't interested. I tried feeding him some cereal - no deal. It didn't matter what I did, he just kept crying. I toted him around with me as I tried to get dressed. I went into the bedroom to get into my skirt and top only to discover that the elderly cat who has problems getting everything off her butt had lain on them and messed them up. I hurriedly found a dress that would fit, put the baby down on the bed (still screaming his head off), squeezed into my pantyhose, put the dress on, packed the bottle bag that my 12 year old forgot to pack when I asked her, and frantically searched for dress shoes that would go with my dress but wouldn't kill my feet. Since staying home I've learned the joys of wearing nothing but comfortable shoes 363 days out of the year.

While trying to do all of this, my husband kept calling every 10 minutes to let me know where the cop was shooting radar, where he was sitting in the gym, to ask when I'd get there, etc. Finally my phone rang and luckily I didn't get to it in time, because I probably would've answered without looking at the caller i.d. shouting, "What the he#% do you want now!?! I'm trying to get out the door!" It was my MIL calling to say she wasn't feeling up to coming to Grandparents' Day. Boy was I glad I had to call her back instead of answering the way I almost did! I called G. to let him know his parents weren't coming, found the video camera, took it out to the car, stuffed the screaming baby in his car seat, and left the house. The baby fell asleep just before we got to the school. I carried his car seat into the gym, plopped him down in front of my husband, said, "Here's your demon spawn. Where did they set up the coffee pot?" The theater teacher was within earshot and commented about how he was glad he doesn't have kids when he hears statements like that. I told him it's still worth it and recounted the last cookie story about my 4 year old, but only half-heartedly, and off I went to get my caffeine fix as well as a sugar laden pastry.

By this time I was concerned about my MIL, frustrated with the baby, ticked off at my 12 year old for not doing the one thing I asked her to do to help out that morning, annoyed with G. for constantly interrupting me while I was trying to get out the door, hungry, and feeling not at all in a thankful frame of mind. Admittedly, I felt a little bit better after a hit of caffeine and putting sugary food on my stomach, but only a little. I made small talk with a couple of parents, and a teacher who has an ailing parent in another country. Then I ran into a mom whose child has cystic fibrosis. I asked her how her daughter is doing and found out about the pneumonia that had recently caused her to be hospitalized, the sinus surgery she recently had to have, and some of the other health problems she's battling as a kid with CF.

I made my way back to the gym. By now the Little G. was wide awake and behaving like a perfect little cherub. A few minutes later the pre-k class marched in wearing adorable turkey headdresses for their musical performance. S. D. looked beautiful and was obviously happy to be there. Suddenly I was no longer irritated with my family; I was thankful to have them and knew I'd rather be there than anywhere else in the world (even the Bahamas with a pina colada in hand).

It turned out to be a wonderful, patriotic program. The school even chose not to hit us up for donations during the program, and that's something to really be grateful for!