Thursday, July 22, 2010

yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon Duke answered the phone to my frantic voice and the high-pitched screech of three angry monkeys. In a state of total anxiety I pleaded for help, recounting the last ten minutes of our day.

"Don't freak out. Just put him in the tub and feed the baby." Duke advised me.

"You just don't understand!" I yelled back, slapping my phone closed. You see, when anxiety attacks there is no reasoning with me. I will not hear logic; almost like my mind refuses to compute simple commands.

Duke came right home from work and started washing away the dirty, black cloud of dishes that had become the object of my deepest hate. I cannot explain why a messy house makes me want to run and jump into my bed like I have a monster in my closet. Duke walks in and turns the light on, showing me that the monster was in my mind the whole time.

Now I can laugh about the series of unfortunate events that led to my demise.

Baby asleep. Sparky happily playing. Iggy upstairs for his nap. I thought I'd take a shower before tackling the mound of dishes. Coming out of the shower, I hear a shout from Sparky.

"MOM! I woke the baby up!" Grrrrreat.

Then a shout from upstairs. "POOOOOOOOOOOP!" Excellent.

I open the playroom door to Iggy, naked from the waist down and covered in the latter exclamation. I tell him to get his little buns downstairs into the bathroom. He slides down each step, getting a good wipe along the way. No sign of his pants anywhere. Baby is screaming for me to feed him. I saw the dirty dishes and it all became too much. I boiled over.

After Duke came home and calmed the seas he hugged me and told me that he knows my job is not always easy and that he is proud of me. And then we went upstairs to look for the pants. We followed our noses. We found Iggy's underwear folded neatly inside his pants, hidden in a bundle in the bottom of his clean-clothing drawer.

We cleaned together, forced everyone to take naps, and kissed and laughed and kissed the afternoon away.

I'll bet you can relate, no?

The end.

11 comments:

Jessica Bjorn said...

Totally... usually it is the hormones. It will be those little things that just happen, and you can let go for that day... and then something large, followed by a reminder of the small things happens... and reason is gone.
I find myself apologizing a lot at least one day of the month.
It is hard to be needed in more than one place at a time. ^_^ I hope you aren't too hard on yourself.

Jackie said...

Oh honey, I can relate!! Even though I have three girls instead of three boys, they still poop. Hooray for good husbands, huh?! P.S. Dirty dishes make me want to cry too.

Megan said...

This is too good! I'm sure it was so frustrating at the moment, but it is a good story now!!!!

Kathy said...

Oh yes! With six kids (ages 26-16) I can relate! Fortunately(?), the challenging days have become a distant, almost transparent memory! Perhaps that will give you hope that, like childbirth, one day you will look back and see more of the positive than you do now while you're in the middle of it!
I love your honesty in just telling it like it is and not trying to pretend to be something you think everyone else expects you to be.
Hang in there, you are doing an AMAZING job!
ps-nap times are wonderful too, aren't they!

Scott and Lori Smith said...

This is one more reason to convince Scott into getting a steam vac when we start having our little ones!

Margaret said...

Husbands are wonderful! I'm sorry your day wasn't stellar but I know that it ended better than it started!

Stephanie and Todd said...

Sorry your birthday started out rocky, but it sounds like your superman swept in to save the day!

Stephanie and Todd said...

well I just noticed this happened the day BEFORE your birthday... I'm still glad the day turned out good :)

Trapper and Suzy said...

Dirty dishes are the worst. They make me feel so guilty and worthless, 'cause if I can't even get the dishes cleaned, then what good am I to my kids? I totally relate with you. I think I would've reacted the very same way. You're not alone!! Just the other day, i watched "The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood" and the part where all the kids are sick and the mother is stepping in poop and getting thrown up on. I felt so badly for her. I just wanted to help her 'cause being a mother really is work! Sorry this is so long, but it seems like we all go through these kind of moments at one time in our lives.....I'm just not looking forward to my time. lol

aproapealb said...

I am exactly the same as you are at this part: "You see, when anxiety attacks there is no reasoning with me. I will not hear logic; almost like my mind refuses to compute simple commands."
It is encouraging to see that I am not alone and that this problems can be solved. :)

Thank you, again, for your relevant, encouraging and incredibly funny post!

Glo said...

I'm proud of you for holding on. I'm proud or Duke for raising to the task and I'm proud of my grandkids. You know, grandkids are the "pay-backs" for not killing your kids. You'll be a grandma some day. I love you all and I'm glad that you shared. Love Mom