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Times Like These...


Geesh. Tough night. Tough day. I feel on edge and out of sync. Michael and I snapped at the girls for minor reasons, and at times we each thought the other was out-of-line. I snapped at Elizabeth for wanting to help me make dinner (yes, bad). Michael snapped at Elizabeth for not cleaning up when he asked her to (not so bad). Elizabeth received our grumpiness tonight while Samantha got it this morning. Dressing her in the morning is like dressing a wild lion cub. I had to walk away from her a couple of times just to compose myself.

This evening it was very stressful at home from the moment I walked in the door. As usual, I walked from the front door and into the kitchen (which was a MESS) without taking off my shoes or going to the bathroom. On Sunday when we went grocery shopping, we thought it would be fun to make shrimp quesadillas. I realized this was a crappy idea when I realized I’d forgotten how to make quesadillas (don’t laugh!). I used queso freso and it liquified while melting. I don’t remember that happening before. (Is that the wrong cheese to use?) Then the shrimp was tough. The girls came in occasionally to see how they could help or what they could eat, but they’d end up arguing, getting too close to the stove, or knocking peanut shells onto the floor. (Did I mention the kitchen was a mess?)

I finally freaked when I moved a cutting board over, which bumped into a plate, which pushed aside a bowl, which knocked over a half-full glass of crangrape juice. “I need help!” I screamed. Michael immediately became defensive which I realize now was a problem with tone. “I need help” came across more like “Where are you? Why aren’t you doing anything? You’re such a jerk!”

All in all, dinner didn’t turn out as bad as I thought it would. Elizabeth ate her weight in shrimp and discovered she likes it dipped in milk (yuck). Samantha played with her rice and drank her juice by dunking her fingers into her cup and then sucking them. This provided the funny quote of the day: “Samantha, Juice was made for drinking.” I don’t know. It seems funny to me.

Mostly now I’m tired and wallowing in self-doubts. I’m not a very nice mother (at times). I’m not a very fair wife (at times). And I’m not a very good cook (at times). I’m also not a very good worker, not a very good daughter, nor a very good writer (at times, at times, at times...)

At times, it seems, it’s not sufficient to simply be human. I feel the lowest when my expectations are high. I suppose then, at times, I need to give myself a break. But not today. No, today I’m not cutting anybody any slack. Not even myself.

(NOTE: I’m starting my period tomorrow. Hmmm... any connection? Let the evil flow and flow.)



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