Wow! Has this morning ever been good.
I really, desperately needed it in a way a fat kid needs cake (or a diet. EMBRACE THE ANALOGY, PEOPLE!)
I got home last night at almost midnight, just as I thought I would and, while I enjoyed spending time with my mom while watching the game (which was in my hometown), I really could’ve used the time at home. I’ve recently become more easily frustrated with having a messy house. I’m not entirely sure why because I’ve NEVER been a neat-freak. While I still wouldn’t classify myself as a neat-freak, I am suddenly finding it necessary to keep things a little more picked up or I feel really, really bad about myself. Weird how that works.
I got home last night and Dan had swept, like I asked him to. But the little piles of sweepings were scattered around the house. I understand that this was because he didn’t want to use the vacuum and wake Joshua, so I shrugged it off and thought “That’ll be easy for me to get tomorrow morning.” Then I walked into the kitchen.
And my heart sank.
The stove was dirty (like, diiiiiirrrrrrtttyyyyy) and there were dishes in the sink and there was crap all over the countertops (not literally crap…clutter…stuff…things we should’ve already put away…notice I said WE [Hi Dan!]).
My heart sank even more as I realized that it was midnight. I was exhausted. My throat was killing me. I couldn’t breathe through my nose. The house was a wreck. Someone new was coming over today and someone old was coming over tomorrow and I had to get up in about six hours and start this mess all over again. Then I opened the refrigerator and discovered that there was no fruit for Joshua’s breakfast/lunch today. ::insert nearly crying into the mustard and jar of pickle juice that’s been in the refrigerator for God only knows how long here::
I pumped in the living room so as to not wake Dan and Annie and didn’t cry. Thankfully. Because that would’ve made my nose even MORE stuffy.
I must’ve exuded frustration when I went into the bedroom to go to bed because Dan woke up and said hello and asked me what was wrong. Apparently, feeling overwhelmed is palpable to others. I said I didn’t want to talk about it and went into the bathroom.
When I laid down, he asked me again what was wrong, so I told him. And then I went to sleep, knowing I’d have to be up soon and feeling incredibly frustrated that my job keeps me so busy when it should be a job that is very conducive to having a family.
When I woke up this morning at 6 to feed Joshua (who slept through the night last night! WOOT!) Dan had already done the dishes, made Joshua’s pears, and straightened up the kitchen.
I love my husband. I love him. Truly. Madly. Love him.
I tried really hard to not complain in a way last night that would lay a guilt trip on him (and hopefully I succeeded…) but he got up this morning and rose to the occasion in a way that I am truly thankful for.
I, after going back to sleep for an hour, vacuumed the sweepings piles, cleaned the stove top, scrubbed the toilet and front bathroom, played with my child, put him down for a nap (from which is just now waking…), showered, did my hair, pumped, made bottles for Joshua for today, and washed/dried/folded four loads of laundry (but it’s not put away because, I mean, really, I’m not SUPERWOMAN or anything…).
And now it’s time for me to go to the school for rehearsal and competition and start the “tough” part of my day. And the part of my day that won’t actually end until midnight tonight when I finally make it home again. But at least the laundry is done and my house is clean.
I feel remarkably at peace with how busy my week and weekend have been because I’ve been able to get things done.
Mostly because I have a wonderful husband and son.