Today, as of 10 am, I had:
- awoken to the disappointing realization that a decent night’s sleep had not left me refreshed and ready to tackle this Friday (as was the deal I made with my brain, just last night). I’m still tired, that kind of tired that makes you think the only thing that could alleviate your exhaustion would be a week of non-stop sleeping. And since I don’t have a newborn, I don’t really feel I have a valid excuse for this kind of tired.
- watched my 5-year old throw another walking-out-the-door-for-school tantrum, even though I thought I’d done everything in my power to stave one off.
- had one of those Mom-moments that you fear could have been observed on some sort of Mom Candid Camera, or by a watchful neighbor. You want to be seen as a Mom Who Always Keeps Her Cool, and is Eternally Patient. But you’re not.
- drove an emotionally-drained self and 5-year old to his school, and for the entire trip, wondered things such as, how can I let this adorable, and mostly delightful, but also human little boy push my buttons so quickly? and why didn’t I foresee the freak-out session over the misplaced favorite jacket?
- returned home with the 2-year old, stuck her in front of PBS, and sat down to gather my thoughts. There were dishes to plan, groceries to buy, bills to pay, and laundry to do. Preferably, all before 2pm when it was time to pickup the 5-year old from school.* While not just letting the 2-year old watch TV all morning (which was so, very, tempting).
We have a brunch to attend on Sunday, which promises to be a delightful time, with friends from church and outside of church, and friends we’ve yet to meet. And a whole roasted lamb, which has me more than a little excited. I’ve been pondering my contribution, finding little inspiration, thinking about last year’s sour cherries, the last little bits still in our deep-freezer, considering new things like gnocchi, wondering how to serve frozen yogurt to 30 adults and almost as many sticky, egg-finding children. And then it hit me, in a moment of instant relief, it was a no-brainer, in fact I really knew it all along.
I will make deviled eggs,** for the first time ever. I will provide the one thing I always hope to find at the brunch table, the one thing I eat embarrassing quantities of, each time I am faced with a platter.
One thing down. But it’s funny, how that decision has nailed down a corner of my day, and the rest of it no longer seems to be blowing away in the chilly spring wind.
* Grocery postponed. Instead chose to stay home w/ the Wee One, do at-home chores, and make sour cherry frozen yogurt. Priorities, right?
** The greenish eggs in the photo are not some exotic variety. They are the color you get when you dye brown eggs blue, which is what we did yesterday at an egg-dyeing party, where I was the one who brought the “hippy eggs.” And darnit if we won’t use them.