Giving In

Today I woke up grumpy.  You know those days, when for no apparent reason the day seems cruel and long and hard before it's even begun?

I fear I have far too many days like today.  Days that may start off just fine and good but something small and silly changes the course drastically and makes it so hard to regain a positive trajectory.

This morning it was an embroidery needle.  I couldn't find one.  ANY one.  Even though I know I have at least 10 in this house somewhere.  Then it spiraled.  "This house is so messy, I can't find anything ever."  "No Louise don't mess with all that stuff I just took out of the drawer."  "No Ainsley you can't have gum.  Ainsley put the gum back. AINSLEY!!!"

Before I even know what's happened I am totally lost in madness and frustration.  I am flustered and lost and have no means to get myself back on track because I am so needed every minute.

I'm trying to remember how I used to get out of funks, you know, before children and this crazy full time job.  I would run usually.  Lace up my shoes extra tight and blast my favorite songs, push my lungs and quads until I thought both would explode, troubles and worries melting away on the pavement behind me.  Or I would talk with a friend.  I would meet John for coffee or Bil or Sara for a glass of wine.  We'd mull for a while until I'd forget what was even bugging me and we'd flow into laughter and fun.  Or I'd paint.  I'd go into a quiet studio and lock myself away for hours.  Furiously mixing colors and trying new strokes and marks.

But now in this new life?  I have none of those options.  My running shoes sit still and quiet, my friends are far too far away, my paints sit patiently in a box downstairs, waiting for a time to shine again.

My new conclusion? I have to give in.  I've had to learn to allow myself to be a grump, let the mood ride itself out, trust in my auto pilot mama mode and the knowledge that tomorrow (or hopefully later this morning) the sun will shine again.

Today I am thankful for playschool and toddler mardi gras parties.  Despite my funk Ainsley maintained a giddy excitement about her donut holes she got to bring to school today.  I am thankful for Louise's morning nap, to allow me this precious forgotten hour to myself so that I may sit here and work through this mood with an extra cup of coffee and a piece of chocolate birthday cake.  Today I am hopeful that the clouds will lift and that I will feel the light I lack right now.  Until then I'm giving in and feeling it because today that's all I've got.