This really isn't a rant. It's more like a pity party. A personal pity party. Sorry to burden you with it...in fact, feel free to just stop reading. I'm venting and will be just fine and dandy in a bit. But for now, I'm enjoying tea and crumpets at my personal pity party. In fact, please don't even worry about commenting, Gentle Reader. I'm seriously not looking for empathy or sympathy or any type of kindness that you, amazing and thoughtful and wonderful Gentle Reader, might leave. I just need to talk it out. Just need to leach out the ugliness that is weighing on me. Just warning you.
So, today it is snowing here in Metropolis. Super J took Misses A and E to their art class and I got myself and Misses O and Q ready to go to a Stake Relief Society Enrichment Meeting (in other words, a large meeting for women who attend my church in various congregations within a specific geographical area). Thus, off the three of us go. The roads were slushy, but I left extra early and we got to the meeting just fine...they were still singing the first hymn.
They had advertised a "children's class" (ie:Nursery) at this thing, and Super J and I reasoned that Miss O would have a better time playing with the other kids and all the toys than being at the museum (again!) with Super J. We were both in complete agreement. Alas!!!! I experienced yet another mothering brain cloud as I did not realize that it was run by some of the very sweet husbands who came along so their wives could attend the main meeting. Uhoh. Red Flag #1. Also, because of the weather, some of Miss O's friends who might have been there were not. Uhoh. Red Flag #2. Can you say, STRANGER DANGER????? I can. I should have. But I didn't. ANYWAY. I got her settled playing at the little kitchenette thing, told them I'd be sitting in the back if they needed me and went to the meeting.
Approximately 15 minutes later, a sweet sister holding Miss O opens the door to obviously try to locate "the mother." Luckily, I am sitting literally on the last row, the one against the wall/partition thingy, and see them so I grab the baby (who's still in her car seat) and my purse and head out to the hallway to claim and calm Miss O, who has a tear streaked face, runny nose, red cheeks and is still experiencing wracking sobs. Quite a sight.
"Mmmmmmooooommmmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy!!!! I want to go (hiccuping and sobbing) hooooooooome!!!!"
Oh, uh huh. I knew right then our Enrichment Experience was O.V.E.R.
So, here I am. Sitting in my "Sunday Best" (which, let's be honest, is about a half step up from Sunday Mediocre) in front of the computer. And I'm wondering, why on earth did I even attempt this. I mean, shouldn't I know better? Shouldn't there have been some warning in myself that this was a futile effort? Seriously, what was I thinking. I was strangely disappointed that I had to leave; not that any of the classes were things I really wanted to attend and who knows about the box lunches. But there was something about being there, with all those sisters who'd braved the gross winter weather. I was among them and then, before things even got started, I had to leave. An hour of prep time, approximately 28 minutes for travel to and from, for 17 minutes of meeting. Not the ideal ratio of effort expended for quality time, non?
So, I'm miffed and I want to be miffed at Miss O, but I cannot be. I'm miffed at myself, I guess. There's nothing I would have done differently, so it's actually quite useless to be even upset with myself. I just know I'd like a donut or something equally calorically unhelpful but emotionally soothing. But instead I'm blogging. We'll see how long I can hold out.
I think the thing that wears me out is that you hear all about filling the proverbial well, but even when I try to fill that stupid well, things don't work out. I mean, this is yet another thing on a long list of moments of this past year which causes me to feel like I'm being whaled upon; that I'm being testing and failing YET AGAIN. Holy smack, I do believe I have let myself get so spiritually drained that these little moments almost unhinge me.
In the long run, this doesn't matter. It really doesn't. The day is not over and I'm sure it will get better. I'm still wondering why on earth I felt I should go to this thing when it would seriously have been better and easier to stay home. I mean, OBVIOUSLY it would have been easier to stay home than get three of us girls, ages 38, 2 and almost 7 months dressed and prepared for a field trip in winter weather. But I didn't. Curses. This mothering gig really is hard sometimes.
On a happier note, at least I've showered for the day. Right? I mean, sometimes that doesn't happen and I'm having a great morning. So today things could still be all wrong AND I'd be filthy with nappy hair. So that's something.
Okay, guess I'll wrap up this pity party. Hope I haven't given you too many leftovers of bitter tea or stale cake.
Have a happier, better day, okay? And I'll work on that, too.
1 comment:
I'm so sorry. I have had so many days like that, I couldn't begin to count them. They are less now, it gets much better as they get older. I would not have predicted that dads would be doing the child care, I would have expected the young women (especially since they often need service hours!) Just as often, I haven't even made it to "the well filler" and felt even worse. It's so hard.
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