Spork in the road

Sunday morning - I got up with all intentions of heading to church but then realized that I still felt nasty and gave up. I pulled the service up online and watched. Then, I logged into another church's service and watched that too. No comment. Double dosing doesn't help your attitude. I decided that no matter how much "church" I poured into myself this morning, my attitude wasn't going to change until I changed it. Might as well get showered and go get groceries.

Grocery shopping with the girls in tow is like a moving three-ring circus. I normally try to corral Annie to the buggy and then have Dasha hang on to the side of the buggy. Today... ugh... Dasha is still tired from being sick so even clinging to the side of the buggy, she continued to trip. I seriously think I've pulled my arm out of its socket in my attempt to catch her from landing on various obstacles around WalMart. Annie's antics weren't as physically tiresome but mentally, I was done with her by aisle 2. She normally sits in the big part of the buggy and categorizes the items as you hand them to her. Some weeks, she puts the cold things together. Other weeks, she puts the boxed items together. You just never know. Today, she decided to "build" herself a house with the groceries. If I haven't mentioned it lately, Annie has very little patience. When the grocery blocks wouldn't sit on each other nice and neat, she started to melt down. "No, Annie. The apple slices can't be under the box of crackers. Put all of the boxes on the bottom." Have I mentioned that the girl doesn't like to be told what to do, either? By aisle 6, she was beyond mad at her crumbling house (and, the bagels and apples were squashed into oblivion). For some reason, she noticed the little pop-up dot in the middle of the lid on the salsa during her explosion. She quickly decided that the button was a camera button and started used the GLASS bottle of salsa to take pictures of everyone. Whatever. I only had a couple of aisles to go.

I finally made it to the checkout with all of the items on my lists. As I slid my card, Dasha yells out, "Mama, why do you always push the numbers X X X X on the calculator after you slide your card?" Come on now! I'm already several fries shy of a full Happy Meal so don't go there today!

If that wasn't bad enough, as I was unloading the buggy into the back of the van, Annie stumbled and fell right on top of the gallon of milk. (Thank goodness that I'd chosen to buy the WalMart brand and not the Horizon stuff which costs twice as much). The milk exploded and puddled under the cart. Both girls just stared at me watching for their cue to either laugh or melt into tears. I figured that tears were risking a bit too much so I just shook my head and laughed. Annie asked if her camera had gotten wet. Argh!

Once home, things didn't get much better. The girls were intent on testing out the "survival of the fittest" theory and continued to bicker with each other until I called for nap time. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I was dreaming of a good long hibernation for both of them. As they slept, I worked on school work. Although I technically only get paid for 35 hours a week, the county probably gets about 50+ hours a week out of the majority of teachers (despite the furlough days). I got semi caught up with paperwork and then tried to take a nap. Nope. I still feel rotten but I slept all day yesterday so it just wasn't going to happen today.

Once naps were over, the girls agreed to color quietly. (Ok, quietly to the girl species is relative). However, Annie came rushing in to me and told me that she wanted an envelope so she could put a letter in the mail to Daddy. That's fine but the envelopes are in the garage - that was the office until last weekend - and the only way to get to the file cabinet is to crawl through the van. I told her to wait but moments later, I heard the garage door open and then a van door close. Not good. Remember how persistent and stubborn this kid is? I call it disobedient, too! By the time I'd gotten downstairs, she was emerging from the far side of the garage via the van with an envelope in her hand. Geez. We put the letter in the envelope and then she asked to go put it in the mail box. Once again, I told her to wait until I found the address. While I went upstairs to find the email with the address, I heard the front door open. You guessed it. (Please remember that I feel like crap and I am so incredibly tired of battling this monster on my own. Don't judge until you've tripped around in my shoes). She put the mail in the box and then came back in and sat on the sofa watching the mailbox. I didn't think much of it until I realized that she was still sitting there 15 minutes later. When I asked her what she was doing, she said that she was waiting on Daddy to come get his mail. Crap. (No, that's not really what my mind said). She's seen Blue's Clues a million times and know all about Mail Time - or so I thought. Let's just say that the next few moments after my explanation were the last straw for me and for her. We just cuddled up and had a good cry. The letter is now laying on the counter awaiting the address and a stamp.

I think there's a part of me that is refusing to slow down because I know there's some major stuff on my plate that I need to deal with. Most people talk about standing at a "fork" in the road on their journey and having to make a decision about which path to take. I feel like I'm standing at a spork in the road. I can clearly see the roads available but I keep hovering in the safety of the bowl part of the spork. When I start to move toward a path, I get cold feet and run back to safety. I feel like there's so much more grace in the spork. There's room to stumble, room to fall, and room to wallow in weariness, and whine. Once I commit to journeying down one of those tines, it's more like a tight-rope act. One wrong move and I'm done. So, this spork-loving girl simply has her head in the sand right now.

Ouch. That much philosophical mush tired me out. Well, Grant just came back home and handed the girls each a stuffed-animalish fluff ball that makes whining sounds and both girls are talking like babies while the fluff balls whine and Grant is laid out across my bed talking my ear off. Yeah. Let the deep breathing resume.

Good night, all. (Yeah, I know it's 6:00 but my mind is already in sleep mode).