Sunday, February 17, 2008

I Love My Honey But He's on My Last Nerve!

Isn't Sunday supposed to be a day of rest?

I got up this morning and went to church, which was nice. I go to 8:30 mass, and it's relatively empty. This morning was a little more hectic than usual, just because the Youth Ministry was putting on their very first Pancake Breakfast. It smelled good, but I'd eaten before church, so I didn't stop in.

Then I went grocery shopping after church. Normally, the Super Wal-Mart is flooded with post-church shoppers, but not today. Maybe because of the pancake breakfast? Or the fact that two feet of snow has melted and now it's raining, so the streets are flooded? Tough call. Anyway, I got a cart full of disgustingly healthy food and came home.

That was when everything started going wrong.

I was carrying a bag of groceries from the back of my car when I tripped on my husband's shoes, which were right outside the door that leads to the laundry room. In a feeble attempt to catch myself, I grabbed at my daughter's ride-on fire truck to try and steady myself.

Bad idea.

See, my darling "forgot" to put out the recycling bin on Friday, and it was precariously full, sitting on top of the fire truck. Down went the bin and everything in it. As I attempted to dodge the tumbling mixed-recyclables, I completely lost my balance, falling backward onto my rear end (thank goodness there's a lot of cushioning back there) and hitting my head on the back of my car. I was dazed for a second, but then I was pissed off. Not just about that fact that I had taken a seriously nasty fall. Not just about the fact that I tripped on a stupid pair of shoes. Not just about the fact that I was covered in empty milk jugs, spaghetti jars and soda cans. I was pissed off that my husband didn't even bother to come and see if I was okay. I didn't ask why, but I'm sure if I did, he'd probably say, "I didn't hear you." (FYI: That phrase is among the phrases I hate the most--others include, "I forgot" and "I don't remember" or "Did I really say I was going to do...?")

I hoisted myself to my feet, carefully picked my way around the fallen items and once again reached for the door. Except there was an empty plastic bag on the first step going into the house. Mix that with the wet pair of running shoes I was wearing and what to do you get? One more nasty fall. I slipped and fell--sideways this time! I scraped my leg and back on the edge of the step. I let go with a string of expletives that would have done the proverbial drunken sailor proud.

Okay, take three.

So, I thought that instead of going into the house, I would pick up everything that fell on the garage floor and put it back in the bin. I gathered it all up and as I went to put the bin where it belongs, my foot got tangled in a string of Christmas lights (that *someone* was supposed to throw away over a month ago) and I went down for a third time.

This time, I was so mad that I picked up the recycling bin and threw it across the garage. By the time I got in the house, my little girl was standing on the other side of the door, her eyes wide and frightened. She looked at me and said, "Is mommy okay? You fall down?" Funny that she heard all of it and checked on me.

After getting all the groceries in, seething and in pain, I went upstairs to change my dirty, damaged clothes and to clean up the scrape on my leg. The scrape isn't that big of a deal--it sort of looks and feels like a bad rug burn--but my head is throbbing from the blow it took. As I'm attempting to get myself settled, it occurs to me that my darling is still in his pajamas, the bathrooms are still dirty, the floor hasn't been swept and the dishes he told me he'd take care of yesterday were still sitting in the sink.

In that moment, I'd had it. Had. It. HAD. IT. HAD! IT!

I did every crazy stereotypical thing a woman can do. I stomped around. I huffed and puffed. I shot dirty looks. And during all of it, I managed to unload and re-load the dishwasher, clean two bathrooms and mop the floors, put clean sheets on my daughter's bed and do two loads of laundry.

Now, my leg is throbbing. I have a headache. My daughter doesn't want to take a nap. It's raining. Hard. And I'm hungry, too. And I have to get things together for dinner soon, because I'm making lasagna tonight and it takes a while to put together. Plus I have to do my lesson plans, clean the downstairs powder room, dust, vacuum and mop downstairs--and in between or after all of that, I really want to start working on the quilt I have planned for my daughter. My husband promised I could have a few hours to myself today to do whatever I wanted. I think I just might get to start that "me-time" around 11:30pm.

Bah. More nonsense later...


Margaret said...

I'm going to have you check the sister site for a breather...

Will said...

I don't know. I think, maybe, you should've taken down your "darling's" pants and given him a few good smacks on his bare bottom!
I love your attitude. I've only read three of your blog posts, but you've got a truly keen sense of the daily struggles of Parents & parenting today.
So much for "experience," aye?


jAMiE said...

Oh Martha, i do hope you are okay....three falls, ouch! I hope your head and everything else feels better soon. You impress me with all you do, you are one strong woman!

ps..i hope you get some 'me time' soon!

mamatutwo said...

So sorry about the start to your day. And I know how much a fellow mommy longs for some "me time" 'cause I do, too!

I do love your blog, and I'd like to link to it on mine! I'm a fellow Catholic--but more of the 11:30 kind instead of the 8:30 kind!

Cheryl said...

It sounded like an 'Alexander' kind of terrible day. It can only get better. I'm sure you're going to feel sore for a while.

Jim Latchford said...

"Husband" is shorthand for "The Road Paved With Good Intentions." I should know, as a husband myself I've been paving that long road for 25 years come this May 14th. Somehow I've managed to make it this far with out my dear Judi killing me several times over along the way. Perhaps in hindsight a plate of steaming hot pancakes might have changed the day's outcome...but then again maybe not. Be on the mend in body, mind and spirit.

annie said...

Wow, three falls! That is terrible. I think I would have been screaming by the second fall!