The One With the Rambling…
I sent my oldest children outside, indefinitely. Thankfully for them it is a beautiful day. They can come inside when they stop saying idiotic things like “my feet are cold.” Dear child, the reason your feet are cold is because you took off your socks and shoes; sitting in close proximity to your socks and shoes will not warm your feet up.
My youngest just woke up from his not-long-enough-nap and I’m pretending not to notice. Lately, he wakes up knowing nothing except that he wants something. But not that something. Or THAT something. He mostly prefers the something he can’t have. Or the something that is a granola bar that he doesn’t ACTUALLY want and will spit out in 2 minutes.
The things I mostly want are peace and quite, and coffee…even when coffee is not good for me. And I have gotten remarkably adept at ordering my coffee.
Unlike me, however, my youngest son is not good at verbal communication. He is learning some signs and can “neigh” like a horse, which, though adorable, is not a very productive sound. His default communication is to whine or cry pitifully, or to point at random things until I hand him one that piques his interest.
As a side note, I think you could probably employ a non-communicative almost two year old to help break people down in interrogation rooms. Thirty minutes in and the suspect would be either just desperate enough to confess whatever you wanted, or they’d succumb to a state of hysteria and start stammering secrets involuntarily.
Which leads me to the part where I’m losing it.
Yesterday I was borderline (what word do I put here?) but the super comfy clogs I ordered online came in and that was supposed to make everything better.
Until I tried the shoes on. They weren’t comfy. They pinched my toes. My heel was not nesting inside the memory foam insole. I do not think that the manufacturer knows what “memory foam” is.
I sent them back today. I wish I could return my irritability and bad temper when things aren’t going right.
Reason for return: Well, the irritability just didn’t fit quite right- actually made me feel fat; the bad temper was not comfortable, and I didn’t like the color after all. Neither did my husband. Would not recommend.
I visited a friend after I started typing all this…and I coerced my sister into coming over. And I’m realizing that all our negatives make us feel like we have to hide. And all the while, maybe sharing the broken pieces of our day with someone else reminds us that we are all broken somethings, that we are so very human, and together we encourage and laugh and cry and live a little more beautifully than when we stay apart.
And honestly, I don’t know where this post is going- I just needed a place to air out my day. So tell me about yours- good, bad, and ugly. We’re not perfect, but we are certainly not alone in that… and there is so much more Grace for us all than we realize.
That interrogation room idea is brilliant. Maybe brilliant ideas always have their root in chaos and angst. I love you.