It’s In The Little Things

It was a morning from, well…HELL!! Yeah *nods head* it really has been.
It started with a phone call.
It’s my daughters ride. And she wasn’t coming.

My daughter REFUSES to ride the bus because of some “issues” with another kid that rides the same bus (which we will talk about in another post…sooner rather than later)
Which left me…Mommy…held the responsible party to get my daughter to school.

On time.

But…
It seemed forces were against me.

My new washing machine. Which drains into the utility tub.

OVERFLOWED.

All over my laundry room floor. Like, we are talking small indoor swimming pool.

Yeah. Seriously.

I grabbed the load of towels from the dryer. And threw them into this small pool. ALL the clean towels.

Now I’m going to have to rewash all our towels. DEEP SIGH. As if I didn’t have ENOUGH laundry to take care of.

And…
I still haven’t even dealt with my preschooler who was still sleeping in MY bed.

In the meantime,
My daughter is sitting on the couch. Waiting for me. To clean up the mess. And to get the little feller up. So she…can get to school. On time.

RIIIIIGGGGHHTT.

Breathe.

Don’t scream at her.

Breathe.

My preschooler. Refused to be awakened. So, I dragged him, along with my entire bedspread, which he was holding onto for dear life… and threw him into his car seat (minus the bedding, which was left at the top of the stairs).

After breaking the sound barrier, the speed of light…and all speed limits…

I got her to school. 3 minutes late.

THEN…

It was time to deal with this little guy, who is already hating school. And he is only in preschool.
We got home.
He ate his breakfast just fine.
But then…
I had to SIT on him to get him dressed.

Breathe.

I had to drag him back into the car. And THROW him into his car seat. AGAIN.

Don’t yell at him

I had to drag him into his class.

Deep breaths.

And I left him. With his teacher. Having a tantrum.

Don’t cry.

As I was walking away from his class, I heard him telling her that school is stupid. And he hates school. And I heard her calling out to me…”See you at 6.” Because we have a meeting with her and the head of the school. Because of my son’s behavior. And really…it’s for no other reason than…he hates it there.

Very, very. Deep. SIGH.

But…
As I climbed back into my car, to go home.
To clean up the rest of the mess.
I noticed something. It was a note addressed to me. In my step-daughters handwriting.
I opened it.
And I read it. It was an early birthday note.

Melissa.
For all these years you have stolen my heart. My cool “other mother”, that’s who you are. And even though you’re 40, we can talk about stuff only “young moms” would. And do really fun stuff “young mothers” could cause your young at heart, like all mothers should be, and love to gossip just like me. Me & U make a really good pair, and I”m glad 2 know u will always be there.
Love, S

And a birthday card from my daughter…

I’m glad you’re mine. I love you no matter how old or mean you are. So just remember, I LOVE YOU!
Love, E

And I smiled.

With a tear in my eye.

All the frustrations from earlier.

Those didn’t matter.

What mattered was…

Even though they were early…

My kids remember my birthday. 🙂

Really though…

That card. And that note. Made my day, which started out so frustratingly AWFUL…

Into a PERFECT day!!

Now if you’ll excuse me…

I have to clean up the mess.

But now, I’ll be doing it with a smile and a full heart.

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