Broken Glass

Have you ever just completely lost your shit with your kid, and then immediately regretted it?

Yeah, me either.  I was asking for a friend.

I was just trying to leave for the weekend.  Exit my homestead.  With my husband, who I am married to, but rarely get to hang out with without a million bajillion people around us that we created together alone.  I was just trying to put my luggage (a paper bag with a toothbrush in it because simplicity is best and fastest these days), when I noticed that Charlotte's toys, books, and what not, were spilling out of the vehicle and onto the pavement.  I hollered at her to clear out her belongings because I had to make room for my paper bag.

 As Charlie juggled all of her things, refusing to make two trips like I had suggested, her little freckled 8 year old hands lost the grip of a glass plate.  Just the day before, said glass plate had held a quesadilla.  And now it was all over my driveway.

I mean, I'm allowed to peel oranges which I consume while I steering with my knees.  But WTF?  Why are my people eating carbs and melted cheese in the backseat of my Prius?

As the plate hit the pavement, it smashed into a thousand pieces, many of the shards landing strategically under the tires.  Like they planned it that way.  Like they glass fragments had a huddle before disbursement and said, "Hey guys, you wanna see Michelle lose her MIND?  Make sure you spread far and wide, and land squarely under those big round rubber things.  She's trying to leave to hang out with her husband for a Married Couples Retreat.  C'mon, I guarantee this will be money."

My reaction sort of went as follows right after the plate dropped to the ground...

Me (clutching my paper bag): "OH MY GOD!!!!  I cannot even LEAVE without a DRAMA.  Look at this Charlie!  If you would have just made TWO trips, this could have been AVOIDED."

Charlie, stood deflated, stung by my words, hot tears starting to well the rims of her eyeballs: "Sorry Mama."

I brushed past her, flung open the front door, and stormed inside the house to grab the broom and dustpan, mumbling under my breath.

Emma, completely unaware of what had just gone down, was cheerily perched in the kitchen, baking a cake. "Hey Mama, I thought you had left with Daddy," she said, without even looking up.

Suddenly, she paused from her mixing and looked at me, sensing a predator was in close proximity.  She looked away quickly, averting eye contact, with an intuitive knowing that something horrible had happened out front.  She was too full of fear to ask what that horrible thing was, worried this T-Rex who had taken over her mother's body may consume her unbaked cake.  She decided for her own benefit, and that of her sisters, to say nothing more.  And so she continued to mix.

When Tom and I finally did leave, I confessed, "I hate leaving like that.  I mean, in the big picture, it was an accident.  And it's like I can hear the words fueled by anger coming out of my mouth, and I just can't stop them.  I hate it."  Tom just nodded, and simply said, "Yeah, babe."

That man...he's a god damn keeper.

Yesterday, I went to work, got a hike in, and then ran to Costco.  I make it home just in time to unload the groceries before grabbing Charlie from school. As I hurriedly opened the hatchback to the Prius, a jar of marinara sauce smashed into a million pieces onto the pavement.  I watched it fall, orange sauce spreading over my driveway, and had this thought, "Yep, that's what you get sister.  See?  Even a grown woman can have accidents.  It wasn't Charlie's fault when she dropped the plate."  My next thought was, "That jar of marinara was 7 bucks.  Shit."

Just then, Tom pulled up, realizing the irony of the situation and said, "I know you've got to get Charlie honey.  I'll clean that up for you."

God damn keeper.

Humbled yet once again by my children, and the ever present patience of my husband.   I will work on delivering grace with grace.  I will work on forgiving more easily.  It just feels better that way.  I can't say how long it's gonna take though.  Based on my record thus far, it may be awhile.  Sigh.