It was a three day weekend due to unexpected frozen precip here in Louisiana. I know, right? WTF? For nearly 2 days, roads and interstates were closed and many of us found ourselves with extra “free” time.
Once upon a time, I, too, loved three day weekends. Way back when during my tenure as a yankee, I would sit in front of the radio in my room with fingers and toes crossed just WISHING AS HARD AS I COULD that school would be cancelled. Even once I relocated to the Gulf states, I would secretly wish for tropical storm activity to swing close. I would never ask the heavens for full-blown hurricanes, mind you. Just a nice tropical storm that would close school/work and cool things down for a day or two.
I love my kids. I really do. But this weekend was the proverbial perfect storm as they say. Not only was school cancelled Friday, but the weather was so gnarly that there was no way in hell anyone was going outside – other than Will who had to go to work and thereby leave me home with both offspring. It should further be stated that Stella loves school. I mean she adores school. She gets kind of tweaked out when it’s a weekday and we don’t go. So we’ll just say her behavior was questionable. By questionable I mean exhausting and excruciatingly loud.
Meanwhile in Felixville, a rash was developing. It was just one of those stupid things that kids get. It was basic hives but by late Friday and early Saturday he had a pretty good sized batch on the back of his neck. It ended up being nothing that a dose of baby steroids and some antihistamine couldn’t handle, but it was something else, you know? It certainly didn’t help his clinginess. I found myself more than once I could just be a marsupial already.
And out in Oui Oui Town, they were all busy. No respite there. No sanctuary.
By this morning I just lost it. I could no longer handle the yelling, the crying, the clinging. Other than a trip to the pediatrician with Felix yesterday morning and a brief walk with Stella yesterday afternoon, I had been locked inside with 2 very demanding little people on top of the usual no sleep and with our days beginning around 4:45 AM.
I lost my temper while trying to cook breakfast and yelled at Stella. I know it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but I just don’t do that. I also don’t like the message that sends whereby it’s apparently ok for mommy to yell but you can’t, Stella. I woke Will up with that tone in my voice which probably indicated that there would be something awful happening if he didn’t get up right now. Thank goodness for everyone he did.
I ended up crying over my frying pan, feeling totally ridiculous and overwhelmed. And the guilt. My word, the guilt.
I’ve decided one thing, moms of the world: If I ever win the Powerball, I am going to open a chain of businesses just for us. They will be like “mom spa retreats,” only they won’t specialize in manis and pedis (although sure – we can have those, too). It will simply be a place moms can go when there’s nowhere else to go. Say, at 7:30 Sunday morning. You won’t have to get dressed or put on makeup. As a matter of fact, makeup will be prohibited along with husbands and children. The spas will sell cheap coffee and chocolate cupcakes for those of us without a whole lot of money who feel precluded from going places like Starbucks. There will be private rooms where moms can just go and be somewhere quiet – like a grown up crying room. There can be community rooms as well in case commiseration is required. It will be open 24/7.
I may need to escape today and buy a Powerball ticket.
P.S. I just realized I worked 2 Cure references into this post. Not bad.