Yesterday I spent a portion of the day working on a project in my house. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time and I finally decided not to put it off any longer. A quick trip to the Home Depot and I was ready to go.
I had to pace myself and keep an eye on the clock because I also needed to make eight dozen chocolate chip cookies to give to Cross Country runners, neighbors and the men coming to a meeting with my Hubby. Ollie helped as my mini baker/chocolate chip stealer.
I also had my favorite phone call of the day to make to our insurance company with whom I am doing battle over whether or not they should cover the $3000 worth of bills for Big C’s baseball to the jaw accident. Don’t even get me started on this one.
Additionally, I was keenly aware that dinner would finally bring all of us together as a family (few and far in between these days) and I wanted to make something yummy for my people. Chicken enchiladas were on the menu. I had a small window in which to serve dinner due to scheduling. I was truly excited to catch up with my kids and Hubby at the same time.
All this to say that for me the day was completely full, but full of good things.
Cue the train wreck.
It started with a disappointing Hubby arrival home. He was ready to race out the door to play volleyball without dinner. Then RedDog translated, “Go tell Ollie it’s time for dinner” to mean, “Go destroy Ollie’s Lego creation so he’ll come upstairs screaming and crying.”
Big C chose the exact moment I sat down at the table to challenge a parenting decision I’d made, turning my dreamy “family dinner” into a People’s Court yelling match of angry teen versus smug parent.
And then I’d had it. I declared that if I didn’t leave the table right then, I was going to erupt into tears. All I’d waited for all day was this one moment where we could be together and it SUCKED. I exiled myself to my bedroom for fifteen minutes in a self imposed timeout. Then I came down and ate luke warm enchiladas.
Some days just aren’t winners. Even though a majority of the day went great, the dinner time situation killed my joy. As I sat in my room steaming and stewing, I kept telling myself to lower my expectations. I was pretty bummed.
I’m so glad I get to go to bed and wake up to try harder and be a better person tomorrow.
PS. I went on an “anger run” last night. Still hated every minute of it. Oh, except for the minute when I was DONE.