Spilt Milk

Ya know, it’s funny… I wrote my gloomy post and then the next day the blue sky was peeking out from behind thin clouds and the sun decided to make a presence for a while. Luckily, I was actually outside long enough to feel some warm rays shine down on my face. Felt good and cheered me up a bit.

But, I will admit that I’m still struggling with some female, roller coaster emotions. Aint it great to be two X’s! I am wondering why the tiniest, littlest, itty bitty thing can set us off? You know how it happens, don’t you? When we get upset about something and then we wallow away in despair over every other thing we can think of?

I could be crying over spilled milk (I’m talking about a whole gallon dropped on the floor) and then while I’m on my hands and knees cleaning up the milk I see how dirty it is under the stove. I could then begin to think about what a failure I am at house cleaning and how on earth would I find time to move the stove and clean underneath it. That could bring on a whole new flood of tears. Which in turn, would bring feelings of inadequacies about motherhood and what a crummy wife I might be.

That thought could bring me to the thought that I better defrost the meat for tonight’s dinner, “I should at least get one thing done today,” which actually stops the tears for a minute. It is not until I walk into the bathroom to throw away some tissues from blowing my tear filled nose that I look at my red blotchy face. I might, just then, look closer in the mirror at my wet brown eyes and start wondering who the heck I am and why can’t I just get a grip. This then would cause me to hunch over the sink and look away from the mirror because I don’t like watching myself cry. Gosh, my chin would look mighty funny all crinkled up like that and pretty close to ugly. I certainly don’t want to be ugly. “Who has seen me cry like this?” I might think. This of course would then make me flop down on the toilet seat in a sob of tears. A whole new flood of thoughts about my many imperfections could then ensue. It is perfectly natural to then have the thought about running away. It of course would only be until I was appreciated again and then I would come back. But then I might think that everyone would be just fine without me… after all, I hardly bother cleaning anyway.

At this point, there would be a little patter of feet coming up the stairs. Of course I would be needed at a time when I would want to be alone. But then, in the tears, I would remember how dear those little ones that need me are and that I would never want to leave them to someone else. I would realize what a ridiculous thought of leaving was and try to clean myself up a bit. Sniff, sniff, blow. I would look in the mirror and think “Get a grip, girl!”

The footsteps would then approach mid sniff and I’d hear, “Mommy, what’s wrong?” With all that sweetness there before me, I’d for sure grab the little one and hold them on my lap. That thin soft child hair would brush my cheek and make me think about the jewels I have before me. Questions about why it’s so hard to be the steward over these little people would baffle me. “Everyone else seems to have it together.” I’d breath deep to keep the burn in my eyes down but my chest would begin to heave again, the tears would fall out onto that golden hair and I’d squeeze the little one tighter. A concerned little face would look up because something wouldn’t be quite right. “Does Mommy cry?” It would then be time to control the emotions. I would blow my nose one more time, try not to look in the mirror, swallow down the attacking sob and head out to fix that dinner.

Without the milk, of course.