You can get one hundred compliments, but the one negative critique will play over and over {and over} in your mind.
And in the same way, you can have a slew of good days but one bad one comes along to smack you and it seems to take even more days to regroup and keep on movin’ on.
I’d try to say I’d have a reason for the event. My schedule was so out of whack last week due to 1.5 weeks of vacation bliss. I know there are people who try to keep to their schedule, but how is that a vacation? I would even be okay with sleeping an extra hour or two because how awesome is it to just NOT have to get up the time you normally do? But if you’re going to bed 3-4 hours later than normal, well then that doesn’t work either.
Though it was a short week, and after deciding to still go see a late movie Friday night {Les Mis-SO worth it!}, by Saturday it was obvious my body had crashed.
AT 10:30ish when my eyes first started to flutter open, I could tell I still felt really, really sleepy. But not wanting to waste the day in bed, I tried waking myself up. Hubby and son had already long been up, and were going to get some lunch soon so I happily agreed to some outside fixins.
I laid on the couch until their return and we ate lunch, and I went right back on the couch to watch playoff games with the hubster.
I don’t think I last 20 minutes before I was out again. I basically slept that day away, not really getting off that couch until sometime around 4. It felt really good though. Vacation or not, you never stop going and to have a day with absolutely nothing to do felt wonderful.
By Sunday, I felt like my normal self (though I can always sleep in). Went to church as per usual, and because of a birthday party realized my son had to do homework he had in the time we had in between.
He wanted to play for “just a little bit” and I obliged not really delving into how much homework he had. Being the weekend, I did not think it was a lot. But from waiting until the last possible minute to do it to doing a page completely wrong to needing help with another page to…well, you get it. It wasn’t going well. When hubby walked through the door from a supermarket outing, there was no happy wife happy life.
And I don’t quite know why the words came out of my mouth, but they did.
Why didn’t you do his homework with him yesterday!!??
Yes, somehow even though I did not realize he had homework my husband was supposed to magically know.
How could you just let him play all day?
When I slept all day.
I was frustrated and I was upset. I told hubby you need to sit down and do this with him; I just can’t.
And someway, somehow all the parts of me I try to bury and try to not let come out and try to ask God to take away from me all together rise to the surface and I say the things I know I’m not supposed to say, and yet always resort to.
You see the problem I have.
I have to do allllllll the housework and be on top of his homework.
You need to help.
And so forth.
And my son got his own spiel about making better choices, not always wanting to just play, yada yada yada.
Sometimes I feel bad about writing these things, and because of that I don’t. But if you struggle like I do, I don’t want you to feel alone. I also fear you might read it and think my husband doesn’t help when in fact, with the exception of cooking “real” meals ahem, he had been the most helpful man I have ever encountered.
He’s constantly playing with his son. {Hence, Saturday.}
He’s up with him in the middle of the night when there’s a problem to let me sleep. {Running theme here on the blog, no?}
He is supportive and caring and kind.
He works in another state, is out of the house half of the 24 hours we are allotted {more if we have a weeknight event} and never complains.
And the list goes on.
But it’s easy for me to point the finger when for mere seconds something is not going the way I want.
{That should be a much bigger, much fatter capital “I”.}
I forget there are four pointing back at me.
Is that how that saying goes?
All that to say, I was stressed and anxious and that manifests itself verbally and I can make my husband and son feel not like how I should be making them feel. I am so much tamer than I once was, but we can’t pat ourselves on the back for how far we’ve come along as if it means anything when we are still making the same mistakes over and over. The severity can be worse than the number of times it happens depending how you look at it.
On the way to the party, I apologized to my son. He’s not always right in the situation. He can act in a way displeasing but I can’t control anything by my reaction to him. I want him to remember a loving and patient mom.
So all that to say, it takes one bad day out of weeks and weeks of good ones {for the most part} to kind of drag you down.
Always thankful that though I am a great sinner, I have a greater savior.
I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.
…assuming that you have heard about him and were taught in him, as the truth is in Jesus, to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.
Ephesians 4: 1-3; 21-24 {ESV}
A Life Well Done 