One of these, I guess.

By dinner time I was nearly at my wits end. I don't know what happens when wits actually end and you have to carry on without them, but I really don't think I want to find out. I'm very certain my children don't want to find out.

There are days (like today) that simply get away from me. I've learned not to resent them, or to look for deeply abiding issues hidden within them. They just...happen. Every now and again. We were due.

We've had an awesome week. Full of adventures, playmates, tea parties, forts, huts, bike rides, black licorice (cough! sputter!) and bright colored markers. So when this morning all three kids woke up whining (Wyatt), sassing (Daphne) and just being generally discontented (Henry), I wasn't phased.

"Ah," I thought. "So it'll be one of these, I guess."

But a day like that - even when it is accepted. Embraced, even - can wear a girl out!

And so, by dinner time, I was nearly at my wits end. Patience was fraying like the thinning knees of Wyatt's jeans. I thought - not for the first time - of how I used to be a patient person. But then I remembered - not for the first time - that as a young single adult, if a situation became dis-pleasurable, I'd just leave. Go see a movie. Hide in my room with a book until the annoying guest went away.

You can't really tell your 4-, 2-, and nearly 1-year-old to quit complaining/griping/whining and work it out themselves, you're going to go have a nap.

So you get that 17th cup of milk and go through the 'no you can't watch a show on TV that's not on right now, it doesn't work like that' argument for the 11th time, and you force yourself to remember...remember that you are the adult. This is not a portent of the remainder of your currently disgruntled life; it's just one of those days and that's all. You know the drill, you can do this. Bed time will, eventually, happen.

And then.

William walks through the door.

Within minutes, the children are hanging around his neck, laughing with glee. They are rolling around on the floor with him, hysterical. They are squealing in delighted terror as they try to hang on to the impossibly strong bucking dad-bronco before they are flung to the couch.

And I, finally catching my break, sit in the corner and catch it all on video.

I can't blame them because Dad is their very most favorite.

He's mine, too.


Jeff and Ari said...

How can you always put into words just what I am feeling? I'm glad to know that my wits aren't the only ones that are dangerously close to ending. Or that I also have to remind myself that I am the adult and can save the situation (or at least keep everyone going until dad comes home or bedtime happens). Thank you.

Charms said...

Love, love, love this post! I have mental breakdowns at least once a day and then Mac comes to the rescue! How the heck do single moms do it???

Charms said...

Also...I gave you an award on my blog. If you want to display it, just link back to me and then choose 5 of your favorite blogs to award it to (and link to them as well.) Thanks for having such an awesome blog!!!