You see, it all started this morning when we slept later than usual, which meant a mad rush to get B1 to the bus on time. In my sleepy haze, I was trying to figure out what day it was... do I have to get B2 to school today? Do I have some morning appointment? It's Thursday, so no to preschool and we had every appointment you can imagine last week, so no to that too. With that, my fate was sealed, my shower was not going to happen.
By mid morning I was regretting that decision. I just felt blah and thought how that shower would have woken me up and started my day off better.
I should have eaten breakfast when I had the chance because after I cleaned up everyone else's mess, B2 went number 2 and stopped up the potty with toilet paper. So then I had a smelly mess all over the bathroom floor, the twins were trying to get past my legs to get into it, and B2 was running around the house not wiped. My decision was made for me, throw some old towels down to soak up the water, turn on the fan and shut the door. I got the twins quarantined to their high chairs, hunted down B2 and got him cleaned up. Still feeling blah, I donned my HAZMAT suit and got to work cleaning up the disaster zone. By the time I was done with that mess, I had to turn my attention to the mess the twins made with their food. They are now in the stage where food is art. It isn't lack of skill with the spoon, it is a deliberate game they are playing. Being that there is two of them, they feed off each other, literally, and food fight with one another.
I couldn't believe I had already fed the kids 2 meals and a snack, all I had was a cup of coffee. I finally got them cleaned up and their diapers changed, and went to put them in their cribs for a nap. I was putting clean clothes on them, when I turned around and realized E was playing in the vomit he just expelled into his crib. So then I had to clean him up, change his bed and his clothes again. By that time, F had pooped his fresh diaper, so I cleaned him up as well.
Finally, time for that shower! While I was letting the warm water rain down on me, the stress melted away and the time alone gave me clarity to think. Why has this day been so hard? Is it lack of sleep catching up with me? Am I getting sick? Is it Seasonal Affect Disorder from all of the overcast days we have experienced lately? Are the kids conspiring against me? I contemplate this and my mind turns to prayer. "Heavenly Father, my day isn't going well, can you help me find the strength and the way to get through it?
After my shower and finally some lunch, I sit down to play puzzles with B2. He has been waiting for one-on-one time with me since he opened his eyes this morning. Every request he made was met with the same response, "after I get the babies down for their nap." It suddenly occurred to me that something was absent, that blah feeling that I had all morning was miraculously gone. I was restored to my normal self, though haggard it may be.
I am sitting at the bus stop, typing this entry while drinking an energy drink that I hope will get me through the rest of the day. I am thankful that my prayer has pulled me out of my "funk" and hope others can relate. You may be reading this and thinking that the shower did the trick, or eating lunch, and I am sure those contributed to my better mood; but if you know the God that I do, you know that He provides us with peace, which is something that bathing and a meal cannot provide. It is now occurring to me, I should have prayed earlier.
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