The Dishes Can Wait

It’s been one of those days where I started out with the best of intentions and slowly, over the course of the day, little crazy things have broken this Mama down.  Now I am sitting in my jammies way too early in the night, the sink is full of dishes, and I have no intention of dealing with them until tomorrow. In fact, I am going to add to the stack before the night is through…to the tune of a wine glass and perhaps an icecream bowl.  Yep, it might be a boozy AND dessert-y kind of meltdown I am having.

Leaving dirty dishes in the sink is my white flag.  It’s the declaration that I concede, I give up. This Mama is done.

I know what you’re thinking, it’s no biggie to leave the dishes for one night. But it just feels so wrong to me. My inner-50’s-housewife, who probably has undiagnosed A.D.H.D., (creepy I know, I have an inner-50’s-housewife, I can even tell you what she’s wearing, but that’s another story…lots of floral)…where was I ?  Oh right, inside-my-head-50’s-housewife says “a clean sink at the end of the day is the exclamation mark on a well-managed household”. Well, she can take her floral apron and shove it where the sun don’t shine! Pardon my francais!

The raw state in which I am currently in this evening was caused by the number of times my utterly inadequate parenting skills have come to light in ONE DAY. Inadequate skills, despite arming myself with every book that has been written on babies/phases/nutrition/development/the spirited kid/the potty training manuals/the out-of-sync/shy/over-achiever/bullying/getting your kids into the forest book (which is great by the way). I am ridiculously well-read when it comes to parenting strategies, yet completely disarmed, ill-prepared and clueless in my real life.

Today was no exception.  It started with a diatribe at breakfast from my picky eater about the “terrible” breakfast I made.

Good morning sunshine!!

I made a hootenanny pancake for crying out loud! They are AWESOME, and I am AWESOME for making one on a Wednesday morning.  What this kid doesn’t realize is pancakes on a school morning are a bonus.  I even warmed berries I picked last summer to go on top! Nope! It was “DISGUSTING”.

FAIL.

Then there was the complete disapproval by Twin B (and his kindergarten teacher) when I forgot it was LIBRARY day!  It’s only April! Give me a break! I am still settling into the back-to-school routine.

FAIL.

Then I scheduled a show & tell time for my oldest son to bring the new puppy (that story later) to class, only to get home and realize puppy has a vet appointment at the same time.

FAIL.

Wait, I’m not done yet…

Then, at pick-up, the vice-principal pulls me into the office because she has…wait for it…a book she thinks I should read: Social Skills for Children Something Something Bla Bla Bla.  I couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying because I was having heart palpitations, which happens to me when I am in the principal’s office.

FAIL.

Oldest son forgot his water bottle in the van on his way to hockey (turns out that is also my fault). This happens EVERY TIME.

FAIL.

I didn’t have enough time between school & puppy training & women’s group meeting & hockey to make something new for supper, so tonight was leftovers.  Guess what my picky-kid thought of that plan? “DISGUSTING”

FAIL.

We got home from the arena on time to kiss Dad goodbye as he left for a nightshift, after which Twin B proceeds to tell me that Twin A pushed a boy down at school today in the schoolyard and put sand down his pants. FAIL (and thanks for waiting until Dad left to bring that doozy up!)  Ok, so maybe that explains the book the vice principal gave me. I handled this really well, by doing the opposite of what all the books say to do – basically yelling and threatening to take away EVERYTHING FOREVER!

FAIL. FAIL. FAIL.

After I was done screaming, and apologizing for screaming,and getting the little fella ready for his big apology the next day, there were still showers to do, and…

teeth brushing,

bandaids for various ow-ies,

stories

and prayers.

When I shut the last bedroom door for the night, all the failures of the day and my disappointment in how I handled each one came flooding in, and I just plopped down right there and sobbed. And that is why the dishes can wait until tomorrow.  Because life is messy, and sometimes, a good cry, not a clean sink, is the exclamation mark on a REAL household.

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No need for tears, just pick yourself up with some on-line shopping with some of the silliest, coolest baby clothing at www.sillysouls.com

One thought on “The Dishes Can Wait

  1. Fabulous article, Jen!! I feel your pain and enjoyed reading…what you wrote about my life! Haha! The boys look like pretty nice kids and like they are doing a-okay, overall. 🙂 You’re ok.

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