That was it. I was done. I'd had all I could take. So I did what most women with their big-girl panties on would do.
I had a breakdown.
Right there, in the middle of my kitchen, a couple of tears sprouted from my eyes and I wailed, "I JUST CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!"
Hubby gave me a quick hug, then went back to dinner preparation, exclaiming jovially, "I can't tell if you're kidding or being serious."
I was very, very serious.
My face scrunched up like a Picasso painting, with a steady stream of boogers and tears making their way towards my chin, I buried my forehead in his chest and wept.
"What's Mommy crying about?" Miss Priss asked quizzically. It wasn't so many moons ago when my six-year-old, my eldest, would have burst into tears herself at the sight of me. But that is another post for another day.
"Mommy's just tired of being sick, Sweetie. She'll be fine in a minute," Hubster soothed.
"I'm just so sick of being sick!" I wailed again. "There's stuff I'm supposed to be doing! I had PLANS!!!"
At this point, if you haven't read me in a while, then it would behoove you to go over to the Tidewater Women Magazine's website and read these two posts, "Singing the Christmas Blues" and "The Start of the Best Year Ever - Any Day Now."
I'd been struggling with the "happy" in my little Happily-Ever-After-Land lately. To sum it up, our entire kitchen had to be torn up right after Thanksgiving, due to a dishwasher leak and a subfloor made of partical board. It was finally put back together again, but not until after New Year's. Which was about the same time a nasty cold germ decided to make me its home, deeming all my big New Year's Plans for a "Better Me" grounded indefinitely.
My optimistic outlook and "it-could-always-be-worse!" attitude had been stretched too thin. Frustration was bulging at the seams for weeks, and right there, in that moment, the last little thread finally snapped. I cried a hard, ugly cry for several minutes before finally pulling myself back together.
"You know," my dear husband said to me, in a kindness that my bitter tears did not deserve, "there are people out there who really are sick and aren't going to get better."
I knew this. Of course I knew this! But I didn't care.
As if to add emphasis to my husband's words, a Wounded Warriors commercial came on the little TV sitting atop the kitchen counter.
My momentary Pity Party wasn't charitable, wasn't mature, and sure as hell wasn't pretty. But it was necessary. Wiping my face and blowing my nose and finally releasing the last little bits of that frustration, the remnants of all the plans that hadn't quite gone my way, I pulled up my big-girl panties once again and returned to the task of preparing the table for dinner.
There is a Tuesday morning Women's Group that meets at my church. We read Christian-centered books and share with each other our joys and our fears, our mistakes and our loves. Our current selection is One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are. It's a memoir of sorts from a woman who has suffered through far more than my missing kitchen and unending headcold. The author is challenged to write a list of 1,000 things she is grateful to God for. The list becomes the catalyst to an amazing change in her whole outlook on life.
So it occurred to me, perhaps I need a list. Not 1,000, of course. I doubt you all would sit through that! Here it goes...
Ten Reasons A Headcold Is Really Cool
- You get to languish on the couch and nobody can criticize you for it.
- Due to fatigue, you can make ridiculous food choices for you and your children. Pizza twice in one week? Why not!
- Catching up on all the shows in your TiVo that your husband refuses to watch with you. White Collar, anyone?
- The ability to create much better deep-man-voices and nasally-dorky-boy-voices while reading Captain Underpants.
- Finally having the time to catch up with all your Facebook friends. Holla!
- Your husband is extra nice to you, feeding you dinner and pills and putting up with juvenile displays of behavior. Oh, and your new man-voice.
- A hot shower never felt so good.
- It's cold out. You now have a reason to skip everything and just stay home.
- Three words - No. Bra. Necessary.
- A deepening appreciation for the abundance of good health you are blessed with for most of the year.
See? I'm feeling better already! And look at that, despite my dry scratchy throat and throbbing head, I still managed to eek out a whole new post for the New Year. Perhaps I'm finally off to a good start?
I don't know about that, but somebody better sanitize this computer keyboard before they use it again. I'm too tired. I'm going to go lay down now....