About how hard it is to move. Because we have all been there, but really-- really, I should be more thankful and less whiny.
So, here I am. In our big ass apartment, freshly moved out of our compartment three doors up. Hiding from the boxes and thanking the sweet Lord for school and a few hours of peace and quiet of which I did not touch a single box. I did, however, make two more panels for the curtains that will cover all these beautiful windows that I am so in love with.
And I calmed down.
She did it again today. Let me back up-- once-- one single solitary time she has driven me to tears. It was right after my grandfather died We were running late for our flight and she would not put on her m-effing shoes... and I absolutely lost it.
Yesterday, she decided to plant a daisy in some place other than her garden... which was not very pleasing... and the day just went downhill from there.
Today though... as every day is... today is a new day. A New Day for the toddler and a new day for the mommy. AND it's a school day! All I needed to do was get through two and half hours of morning funniness before shipping her off to Miss Laura and the rest of the caterpillar gang.
How hard can that be?
Turns out, I would call PETF and finally start crying after holding it together too long with the daughter that kicked, hit, and did all things unfun that toddlers do. Sobbing in the car, LMC screaming in the back seat I finally get the words out, "It is taking every fiber in my body to not..." (we don't need to finish that sentence for the world wide web to break apart and DFACS to be called).
"Why is she crying?" was mom's response.
Having someone outside the situation walking me through what to do was both calming and reassuring all at once.
Getting to school, we drop her smushed peanut butter sandwich on the steps, spill her juice, and she throws down both her vest and jacket.
Jacket? Where's my jacket? Every [very much put together] mother is in a parka- I'm in an old college t-shirt.
My eyes start welling up all over again.
Forty Five more seconds. I just need to hold it together for forty four more stupid seconds and then I can get my act together over the few hours of peace I will find while she too gets her act together. Fortunately, my friend Emily was on duty today and saw the four teary eyes of the two Cagle girls. She picks up LMC's lunch box, her jacket, and her cup and says, "We got this. Go."
So, I went. I got it together. And I'm running late to go pick her up. But, that's okay. Because when we get back- there is a fun afternoon of dancing and playing- just Mommy and baby.
We'll get there. One day at a time.