Look at the Bright Side

Under any normal circumstance, if anyone were to utter the phrase “Look at the bright side” to me, I might have to high five them. In the face. With a closed fist. Today, however, I’m telling it to myself. And since I’m not one for self-induced pain, I will forego the knocking around and simply actually focus on “the bright side.”
You see, this weekend hasn’t been one of my favorites. My home is more of a mess than I can remember it being in a long time. And if you know anything about me, you know that physical chaos creates emotional and mental chaos for me, and if I can’t clean my house, I end up in a corner somewhere, drooling, while reciting random quotes from Pee Wee’s Playhouse. (A little sarcasm, folks. But only a little, because I really do go nuts…)
On top of a messy home (and therefore messy mind), my kids have been whiny, crying, cling-ons (and not the sci-fi kind) all weekend long. I couldn’t pass them off to hubs because he was gallivanting around the country side shooting stuff up and reffing a football game. And then there was this thing where he had to fix our van so we wouldn’t wreck and die. Whatever. He was gone, and I was without a vehicle, and therefore my kids were especially dramatic, and I was trapped. Trapped.
So I’m looking at the bright side.
My son didn’t want me to part from him all weekend long. Annoying, yes, because it makes it hard to do *anything* while holding a 14 pound head-banging sumo baby. However, he sought comfort in his mama’s arms, and that is totally and utterly sweet. He smiled and giggled and cooed for me and those faces and sounds are so entirely precious. He fell asleep on my shoulder, which doesn’t happen too much anymore, and he let me sing to him for almost an hour last night as I put him to bed. I gotta say….that is a moment in bedtime history that will remain forever special to me.
Little Miss chose her own outfits all weekend, and no, they did not go together. Unfortunately it would appear she inherited my complete and total lack of style and goes solely for comfort and convenience. She put this heart shirt on and came downstairs beaming, pairing it with purple corduroy pants. Who still makes corduroy pants, anyway? Wasn’t there a law passed against that at some point prior to the early 2000s? I thought for sure it was a Clinton administration thing. I digress. She pointed to the giant heart on her shirt and said, “Mama, when you look at this shirt, does it remind you I love you?” Melt into a puddle of parental goo. “Yes!” I answered, fighting back those sentimental mom-tears. Later, as I was trying to soothe Little Man during one of his fits of rage, I hear, “Mama….” and glance up to see what she needed. Smiling, she pointed to the heart on her shirt. She wanted me to know in that moment, she loved me. Melt again. Fight back more sentimental mom-tears. Little princess of sweetness…
I took the kids for a walk yesterday, and we went nearly two miles while I pushed them around in the wonky stroller. The weather was perfect for walking, though I had to make sure they were warm since there was a cool breeze out. We ran across an angry squirrel, an apple tree that couldn’t hold on to its bounty anymore, some flowers, and a puppy. As Little Miss so eloquently stated “It smells like dog poop right here.” It did. Unrelated, but relevant, it wasn’t until we came home and I was a sweaty, sticky mess, that I realized I hadn’t remembered to put deodorant on. Now tell me why my husband wouldn’t want to be waiting at home for his hot mess of a wife to come wafting walking through the door… It’s a miracle I was showered and dressed, and taking the kids on a walk. One small victory at a time here. I was dog tired after taking them out, but so glad I made the effort. They were both a little happier for having the fresh air.
Last night I got about 45 seconds of sleep. I have a hard time falling asleep these days, and I’m not entirely sure why. I usually end up going to sleep after Brent. After he was everywhere but home yesterday, he was pretty wiped when bedtime rolled around. He went to bed, and I don’t know if any of you ladies married a guy like this – but when he is wiped out tired, he rattles the windows with his snores. After several nudges and love-shoves, I soon realized there was no rousing him from his exhausted slumber. I grabbed my pillows and a blanket and headed to the sofa. No sooner had I finally gotten comfortable enough to catch some Z’s, I heard our bedroom door open as Brent was headed to fetch a screaming baby. I didn’t have to get up with him, but I was awake the entire time they were. I finally drifted back to dreamland only to be awoken by one of the loudest claps of thunder I had ever heard in my life. I held my breath to see if Little Miss was awoken as well. Sure enough, I heard the doorknob. In her sleepy, scared state, however, she couldn’t get the knob open so she started knocking on the door. Poor thing. I raced over to save her, and Brent met me at the door. I think he whispered “go get your pillow”, (it’s hard to say with a hearing loss paired with sleep deprivation) so I did, as I held Little Miss. I took her and my pillow and went and snuggled with her in our bed. She laid in between us, snuggled up tightly against me, and patted my arm as the thunder raged on. And on. And on. And on. I don’t know what time it was, but eventually I heard her ask, “Can you carry me to bed?” In my most empathetic voice possible, I barked “No.” Mother of the year here, folks. She did walk herself back up the stairs, and I started to fall asleep again. Little Man woke up needing to be fed a couple of hours later. Have you ever seen the Jim Breuer clip on why moms need their sleep? I’m pretty sure he’d been spying at me in my lifetime and did a comedy bit about it. I’m so not nice when I don’t sleep. Even when I do sleep, nice is questionable at best. 


Church was powerful, as usual, and the worship made me cry. Big surprise there. I was sleep deprived, personal-space deprived, and ended up crying in church? Weird… I was super excited for nap time today, though. And you know what? Little Man was not at all excited about it. In fact, he boycotted it, beginning 12 seconds after I drifted off into dreamland. 
I’m tired. My house is a mess. My husband is off saving the world. Or the vehicle. Or the dishes. Whatever. But you know what? I got to have moments like this… and moments like this make bad days good, and bright times even brighter. I love these little stinkers, and they are absolutely my bright side.

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