Sweet & Sour

Last night, we had a wonderfully sweet night with my friends and their kids. We laughed and laughed and ate and told stories and watched our kids play, held the new babies and reconnected like we’d never been apart, because that’s how these girls are. It was really sweet.

This morning, we had one of those mornings. Sour. The kids were up well past their bedtimes and drank way to much soda and ate too much sugar last night. In fact, 2 of the last 3 mornings have been sour. One sour morning is fine. I can do that. Two sour mornings is compounded misery. It is exponentially more difficult than the day before.

This morning’s light burned Henry’s eyes as we woke him. Getting him to go to the bathroom was like asking him to take the SATs. The clothes I picked out for him we so not right, and Nathan had to battle to find anything that was to his liking. He cried, and whimpered and screamed at times. Breakfast went all wrong because his homemade “gun/walker” thing he made wasn’t positioned right on the kitchen table. Charlie was too loud and in his way. His sweatshirt zipper was The Enemy as gritted-teethed Henry tried to pull it in the wrong direction and yelled out with crazy eyes in frustration. And then he just stopped. In all his rage, he just looked at me and put my hand to his face and cried. He was so tired and I feel totally responsible. My heart started to break.

Though Nate said it, he didn’t have to. I could see it his face. He was done. Past reasoning, past patient. The tank was dry.

As we left, I half-jokingly asked if he’ll come home tonight. It was that bad.

Cereal for Henry and a binky for Charlie made the drive to school/work tolerable…but I still felt awful. I could see their red-rimmed eyes and tear streaked cheeks from my rear-view mirror as they sat silent, staring, or half-asleep.

After trying to spend some quality drop-off time with Henry, it was time for me to go to work because this is the 3rd day in row that I am running very late. Henry physically melted. Literally. His legs gave out, his shoulders slumped forward, his head flopped backwards, his mouth opened, tears poured and he just melted to the floor. I tried all my cheerful tricks, none of which he bought. This is usually when the teachers jump in, and they did. But I walked away from the glass door watching Henry hysterically crying, faced pressed against the door calling for me over and over. I turned away and walked and could still hear him calling me. And then I melted.

I know he is just very tired and I know I am very tired. It was a sweet night and a sour morning. I guess that how it goes, but next time I plan a party, I’ll think twice or plan better so that my kids don’t pay such an enormous price.

When I got back to my car, I saw the pieces of my kids….the 50 or so goldfish crackers strewed about the backseat, the binky, the crushed cereal, heaven knows how old Pirate’s Booty and two days of granola bar wrappers and I cried a little more and thought….Yes, my plate is very, very full, but, so is my heart. I love you Nathan, Henry & Charlie.