No phone call necessary
That’s it. I said. I’m done. I’m done for a little while. Guys, I’m done.
I literally threw in the towel, the dishtowel. Except I threw it on the ground and I walked out of the kitchen. On this mid-morning I was tired. Tired of cleaning up spills. Sloshed milk everywhere. Crums. Sticky counters and tabletop. Tired of bellies that would not get filled up. Tired of watching stains form onto clothing I knew would be more work for me later. Tired of refereeing and deciding who was right. Who should have a turn now. Who should play with that toy. Because It’s mine. No, it’s mine. Tired of deciding what was fair. Tired of whining. Please stop the whining. I can’t hear you when you whine. For the love of all that’s good and holy stop the whining. Use your regular voice and then we’ll talk. And Deweydog. For some reason Dewey decided that morning to pee in the house. So I’d cleaned up dog urine too. And I was tired of that as well.
Just give me a minute, guys.
I found my way to the couch. I plopped my whole body down facing inward. Used my arm for a pillow and stared at the white leather a few inches in front. All that white, blank space. My eyes may have crossed a little. I fully expected some person then to come bounce on me, wrestle me, need me. So I may have been tense and ready for that. I’m nearly always ready for that.
But no one immediately jumped. The din moved elsewhere and the sound of children faded off down the hall.
No, no one jumped me.
Instead of a pounce, I felt something like a blanket go around my shoulders. It wasn’t something like a blanket though. Turns out it was a blanket. Someone smoothed it over my back and legs. Then, a second cover. That one was bunched around my feet to finish where the first blanket fell short. Again blanket number one was pulled up to my chin. Patted, smoothed, secured. Without turning around or lifting my head, I thought I knew who was doing this, this nice and thoughtful thing.
Get some rest Mama, Matilda whispered. I felt her words poof poof on my face. Then my daughter, she walked away.
And even though my “rest” lasted maybe another sixty seconds, on this morning it was enough.
You know, truthfully, on some mornings such as this one I call Mitchell at work looking for another adult to tell me to hang in there. That I’m doing a good job.
You know, because I’m caring for our children, tending to their needs and wants, keeping up with the house stuff, and also working from home–writing, emailing, preparing for my class. The whole I’m-doing-so-much-and-I-just-want-a-little-thanks bit. Yeah, that whole bit. I (shamefully?) do it. Blah blah blah. Praise me already! Validate me. Tell me I am worthwhile.
But some mornings are like this one. Someone comes and covers me in a small unexpected kindness. Gives me the softest smooch. And with four breathy words–Get some rest Mama–let’s me know I’m being cared for too. Makes me feel good in an important way.
Thank you my sweet girl.
Greta and I want to see your funny, your yummy, your heartfelt, your favorite phone photos of the week. All you need is a blog post containing at least one photo from any phone camera. Link up below!