Ok world wide web. Lets get personal.
This week has been a nightmare.
Everything started to go wrong when I was forced to take Jack into a public restroom. Curse my I-Have-Had-A-Baby-Bladder. Foolishly I thought I could 'just make it work' by taking him into the stall with me. Wrong. Before I could do anything to stop it, Jack crawled under the stall door and I could hear him giggling and squealing as he ran out of the bathroom. I was yelling "Jack Vincent get back here" while I composed myself enough to chase after him. I caught him just outside the bathroom- thank goodness. But it was a big embarrassing scene. All of the other moms were looking at me with a judgmental "I have never let my kid run away from me while I was going to the bathroom" look in their eyes.
And then things got worse. So much worse.
That night was the Relief Society Christmas party. A progressive dinner. A perfect chance for all of the women to get together, chat, and see three homes all dressed up for Christmas. Because I was going with my mother, who is notoriously early to everything, we arrived at the first house about seven minutes before we were supposed to. Our hostess was finishing up some last minute things and asked if I would mind lighting the candles on the dining room table.
The candles were arranged around a festive center piece complete with beautiful Christmas greenery. It was sort of like a Christmas tree in a pretty vase. After I lit the candles I returned to the kitchen where a few more ladies had shown up. We were chatting about the appetizers and the weather for a few minutes, and then we smelled the smoke. Yes, smoke. We ran to the dining room and sure enough the center piece was up in flames. Yes you are reading that correctly. I started a fire in my neighbors formal dining room.
The center piece was rushed to the sink and soaked with water. I guess all things considered it turned out fine. There was no damage done to anything other than the center piece. But I am fairly certain I will never be attending another neighborhood event. Ever. To be honest I might not ever leave the house house again. Ever. It was without a doubt the most humiliating thing that has ever happened to me.
After a rough night of restless sleep wondering how one properly apologizes for starting a neighbors center piece on fire (a card? flowers?) I started a new day determined to not give into my desire to dig a deep dark hole and spend a few days inside. It was going pretty good.
Then Jack broke my nose.
You see my son, the light of my life, has a crazy big head. Sometimes I wonder how he manages to stay upright with that huge noggin placed on his little neck. My son also has the most heart warming laugh. And when he laughs he throws that incredibly large head back in pure delight. It is pretty magical. Unless he is sitting on your lap when he starts to laugh and he throws his head back straight into your nose hard enough that you hear it crack.
So here I am, two dark bruises under my eyes that meet up on the bridge of my nose with a killer headache complaining to the internet.
But I am not just complaining. I have secret hopes that somehow someday Jack will be interested in reading this blog. I know. Fat chance. But just incase any part of my crazy obsession with wanting to know the stories of peoples lives gets passed down and he does read this…. This is the point.
Jack sometimes life sucks. Sometimes it feels like life is just adding insult to injury. A lot of things happened this week that I wish didn't. Silly embarrassing things. But other hard things too. Last week you got your head stuck between the wall and the air hockey table. I know that says a whole lot about my parenting skills. But you are really hard to keep up with right now. Anyway there wasn't enough room for me to pick you up and pull you out and the table was too heavy for me to move. The only thing I could do was shove your head down and make you crawl out. But you were pretty upset. You kept trying to stand up. So I had to keep shoving you down. And I know it was confusing because I am your mom and I am supposed to help you. But kiddo I was helping. Even though it didn't feel like it. Even though it felt like I just kept pushing you down. You crawled out. I picked you up and hugged you until you stopped crying. I think sometimes God has to knock us down to get us to where we need to be. It can be confusing because He loves us and we know He wants to help us. But kiddo He is helping. And when we crawl out of whatever it is we are stuck in, He will lift us up.
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