Today is not going well.
I woke up tired.
Never a good sign.
LC is back to her usual nightly tricks so Greg and I are taking turns heading in for cuddle time with her in her big bed. Sometimes all it takes is 5 minutes together in the big bed and she'll sleep all night once we transfer her back to her crib. Last night ... not so much.
As I was sitting drinking my morning cup of coffee, keeping an eye on the clock because I only had 15 minutes to gulp it down before having to start the morning ritual of harrassing Marley and Paige to get dressed, dressing LC, showering (if I'm lucky!) and dressing myself, making Marley's lunch and then harrassing everyone out the door, I realized that my eyes felt puffy. Like they do after a late night/early morning.
After dropping Marley off at school I wrote up the weekly menu and grocery list and then briefly pondered the idea of trying to squeeze in the shopping before gymnastics. But decided using the time to check my email was more appealing. Waiting in my inbox was the February One Little Word prompt. This month we are to try to capture our word in photos. Huh? How to you capture "release" in a picture?
Then I went into the kitchen.
(Okay, this is where my rant kicks in.)
In the drying rack are the pots and pans that Greg dutifully washed last night after dinner. One of which was the second go round as he noticed some food he'd missed the first time. This is what I saw ...
I am slightly gesting.
So, after cursing a blue streak and reaching for the rubber gloves and dish soap to wash it "properly" I stopped, took a deep breath and told myself to "release it". Then I grabbed my camera and captured my word in action.
Unfortunately, the frustration, annoyance, anger, etc, isn't exactly going away.
Perhaps it's because LC has fought me on everything today. To the point where I gave up after gymnastics and carried her to the car coatless and shoeless!
Perhaps it's because the sun streaming in through my kitchen windows (while lovely) is basically just highlighting all the finger/nose/tongue (yes, LC likes to lick the windows!) prints on them, and the dried on spaghetti sauce on the table and the mountains of food bits under the table and, and, and ...
Does it ever end? The wiping? The sweeping? The cooking? The laundry? The snack preparing? The wiping? The sweeping? The picking up of every little teeny tiny toy known to man?!
It is my fervent wish that posting this will RELEASE all my yucky, tired feelings into the ether.