The REAL cry factor

Thinking about my earlier entry about crying, I realized how distant and removed it was. I'm really good at analyzing in writing, making sense of everything, and as a result, playing down the emotional aspect of the event.

Today was terrible. It was a 'terrible, no good, really bad day. (I think I'll move to Australia.)'

If I wasn't physically holding Caleb in my arms, he cried. Each time I did the dishes today, he hung off my legs and cried. When I had to go to the bathroom, he mashed his face into my knees and cried. When I made lunch and dinner, he cried. During his nap, he woke every 20 minutes and cried. By the time I was giving him his bottle, in the nursery, in the dark, I was crying.

Colin was what I term "silly naughty" today. He wouldn't listen, he was disobedient, he was deliberately mean. And he did it all with this smirking smile that drove me nuts. He skipped nap, which made it worse. If I hadn't been the one feeding him today, my guess is that he was sleep-deprived and sugar-high. But no - he was just having one of those days.

Then both of them got me good in the gut after dinner. Caleb threw a fit, jumped in the air and landed full force on my stomach. Colin threw a fit, ran at me and head-butted me in the stomach. It aches terribly and I feel about to throw up.

I remembered (a little too fondly) a friend's remark last year, about wanting to throw her kids into snowbanks. It's a good thing our snow is melting fast.

I had absolutely no desire to be at home with my children today. I yearned for conversation with an adult. I longed to escape these four walls. I needed to just be somewhere my children weren't. No such luck.

They are in bed now and I'm decompressing. I'm trying hard to keep in mind what I told Colin before sending him off to bed: "Today was a hard day. But we can try again tomorrow."

I am grateful for tomorrows. I am grateful that the sun goes down and the world is blanketed in darkness. I am grateful that my body is designed to take time each day to sleep and recharge. I pray fervently for strength and peace for my tomorrows, and also for my todays.