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.
"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.
Comments
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.
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!
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!
Thank you.