Jason came home this evening to a house crumbling down around him. Figgy has taken to screaming, for no apparent reason, and it was ugly. It's like a cartoon, of sorts, except it isn't at all amusing. There are sippy cups being thrown this way, toys being thrown that way, heads spinning around, lights blinking off and on, thunder claps from the angry gods, and mommy begging for that sweet little girl to reappear. Well, after 45 minutes of begging, ignoring, begging and threatening to sell Figgy to the gypsies, Jason came home from work and I promptly ran, no, sprinted to our bedroom where I shut the door, turned up the television and crawled into the bed and pulled the covers over my head. I stayed there for 25 minutes until I was sure peace and tranquility had been restored in the main part of the house.
Jason was feeding the kids dinner. "I just fed them!," I exclaimed! "They cannot possibly still be hungry." Do you know those two acted like they hadn't been fed just an hour prior? They ate EVERYTHING offered to them for dinner and were ready for more. Just before Jason had come home (and before Figgy's meltdown), I had fed them chunky chicken noodle soup with lots of carrots and celery, then TWO (yes, 2!) cucumbers from the garden. I think my kids may have holes in their tummies because never, in a million years, would I have guessed my beautiful daughter was acting like the devil's spawn just because she was hungry.
Am I ever going to get this mother thing down? Is there really any other job in the world quite like this where you absolutely love what you're doing one minute, feeling like you may very well have found something you're good at; only to feel like a complete failure the next?
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1 comment:
That's it! Great job one minute, total failure the next. that's it alright.
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