Feelings

This week has been a whole lot about feelings. Some good, some bad, some crazy, some nostalgic, and some just plain weird.

Our life is always pretty chaotic, but Thursday evening things sort of went off the charts. We had just finished up homework (yes, I said "we") and the boys had gone to play in our newly remodeled basement. I was cooking dinner, working out (my brother was about to get married, remember?) and playing with Little One all at the same time (This just makes the workout more challenging. Ever do push-ups with a 28+ pound baby on your back?). I heard thunderous footsteps running up the basement stairs. Youngest Boy bursts through the door with a, "Mommy! Mommy! Come quick! You gotta see this!!" Now, let me preface what happens next by saying that everything with him is a "come quick" or "hurry" or some other melodrama. Always. He's very animated and life for him is very exciting. So I said, "Not right now, buddy. I'm in the middle of three different things!" He said, "Well...alright. But there's water dripping from the ceiling, running down the walls, and pouring out of the lights..." &%^#!!! Are you kidding me?!?! No, sadly, the joke was one me. It was just as he described it. I immediately called Mr. MOTH and turned the water off at the main valve. And then I considered throwing up. I can't even describe the disgust I felt with this whole situation. He had to rip the ceiling apart, spend hours looking for the "leak", and we still haven't figured it out (although there has been no repeat performance). We found a pin-hole size leak in the water line to the fridge, but we aren't calling it the culprit just yet.
**************
The same night an invitation to my 20 year high school reunion showed up. Yinz guys, I'm old. And I'm really feeling it. My youngest brother was about to get married (!), my kids were in the wedding (!), I have been out of high school for 20 (!) years, and I didn't have any cool shoes (See? I told you I'm crazy.).

To top it all off, I was really nervous. I mean, my kids are really good, sweet kids but they're very rambunctious. Very. The idea of having to walk somberly down the aisle next to each other without a light saber battle breaking out was making me sweat. And, of course, there's always family there to judge. For the most part, I know in my heart that my family loves my kids. But just like everyone else's family, there are some who think they know better. Or their way is right. Or I'm too over-protective. Or not over-protective enough. And it drives me bat-shit crazy. It's very hard to constantly feel like you are somehow not a good parent. Constantly. Most of the time I don't let it bother me because I just keep telling myself that I am. I love my kids. I know what's best. I have to deal with the consequences when I fail to correct them consistently. But on weeks like this, when my confidence and sanity are hanging by a very, very thin thread it is all I can do not to freak out and tell them to stick their judgey judgement where the sun don't shine...

Sorry for the long, crazy post but I'm tired. And crazy. And I'll do better next time. Maybe.