The Day I Took a Powder

Sometimes you just have to be melodramatic. In a small way the weight of my days came a crashing down on me yesterday when a little boy decided that rather than cheerfully put his laundry away he would call mom stupid while tossing freshly laundered and folded clothing about.

My life isn't so bad. But some times things just get to you.

First: Dear T was on day 6 of a 7 day stretch of working. Leaving at 6am, coming home approximately 8:30pm. Gone 14 hours a day. There was one day he was home for a few hours but sorry, that doesn't count. It's not a day off unless I get to actually leave the house by myself if I want.

Second: I have plantar fasciitis and when it's hurting there are times I can barely walk. I grin and bear it, take lots of motrin, stretch and use a rolling pin on my heel in the hopes it will pass. But it's not. I've been in pain for about 4 weeks, since the weather started warming. It's probably about time I seek stronger treatment but that's another topic.

Third:  I spent the morning cleaning and doing laundry while the boys merrily played. At one point they decided to play clean up crew in which they get to do all the "fun" part of cleaning while leaving the actual cleaning up of their cleaning to me. I decided it was time to give my feet a break and sit down to fold the laundry. This is where my dear, dear sweet boy thought that putting his own laundry away was just over the top and how dare I suggest he do it.

I pretty much lost it. Here's the thing. This is him, it's not new to me and I'm trying so, so hard to be patient with him. He calls me or someone else stupid about 5 times a day. I don't take it personally but I am quite tired of it. If it had just been that, maybe I'd have let it go. But no, he had to throw his clothing about the room too. Off he went to his room. Off his laundry went too as I threw it into his room for him to refold and put away. I was not pretty, I was not particularly nice or loving and I most definitely wasn't mindful.

My poor dear unsuspecting husband chose that very moment to call and ask how my day was going. I'm sorry dear, you win the award for "worst timing of the day". Boy did he hear an earful. He patiently listened to me, used all of his best "I hear you are having a difficult time" listening skills until I heard what I thought surely was a bulldozer destroying our son's room and had to hang up.

I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. No really, there really is a good part. Much crying and cuddling ensued after which I made both boys lunch. When he was done with lunch, little boy came to where I was sitting and proceeded to make off with my slipper. Such a tiny thing. Oh so NOT worth being upset about. My slippers are never far from me. Without my slippers I sometimes limp around or walk on the balls of my feet because of the pain. And one child or another is always walking away with them. So that did it. I decided, without fanfare, without loud words of any kind that I would spend the rest of the afternoon in my room reading. That I would not do anything for a child until dinner.

I went on strike. Took a powder. Feigned a fainting spell.

Popped myself some popcorn: "mom, are you making us popcorn". Mwahahaha - AS IF! Grabbed a bottle of Mike's and went to bed with my Nook.

So what do you think happened? Did that bulldozer come back to demolish the rest of our home? Did they eat junk food, watch TV, play the Wii all afternoon? Did they leave, running amok around the neighborhood? Torture small animals?

Too bad you'll have to wait to find out. Look for Part II of "The Day I Took a Powder" tomorrow. But then I might take a powder today or tomorrow and not get around to it. Who knows? Mwahahaha....