I woke up this morning on the melancholy side. I felt bad for losing it last night. I was worn out from my hectic life. Greg was right, I've been doing too much. The problem is, I just don't see a solution. But I vowed to take it easier today. Austin and I rode the two-man bike to school, pulling the little boys. I hugged and kissed him goodbye. Owen and Lance played around while I slowly cleaned up the house. I cried intermittently, just little tears releasing my emotions. It was therapeutic. After I took Owen to school, I ironed a big pile of Greg's clothes while Lance sat on the bed by me watching old Mickey Mouse movies. I worked on laundry and organized my poor closet, which badly needed it. I picked up the boys from school at 1:15 since it was short day. Then we came home and I made chocolate chip cookies. The boys had friends over and I ate cookie dough as I baked. I had some music softly playing in my kitchen. And when I thought about my frustrations, I just let the tears spill down my cheeks.
Finally at about 3:00, I showered and got fixed up. When Emma came home, I took her driving. I made her get a car wash, go through the pizza drive-thru, and stop at Harmons to buy a little gift for the birthday party she is going to tonight. She is getting to be an excellent driver.
And then...I made Greg go on a date with me, even though I knew he was a little frustrated with me too. We dropped Emma off at the school where she was working the concession stands for the varsity volleyball tournament. Then we headed to the Rib and Chop House. I ordered pot roast and Greg ordered a rib-eye. During the day, I'd considered quitting the marathon, but I would have been quitting out of anger. Like, Fine! If everyone thinks I can't handle all this...then...fine! I'll quit! But that wouldn't have solved anything. Or made anyone feel better. So instead, I just gave myself permission to admit my failures. I forgave myself for losing it. I forgave Greg for being upset about my workload. I just decided to pick back up those juggling balls and start to slowly toss them into the air again.
We had a fun date together. We laughed and talked and ate. I sent Emma to a fun boy-girl birthday party at the city pool. I let Julia have four friends over to have a night swim. I put the little boys to bed and watched TV with Greg while I mapped out my 16-mile run for the morning. I didn't worry that it was really late by the time I crawled into bed. I just took a deep breath and set my alarm for 4:40 a.m.
On my running playlist is a song that says, "You've got to get up and try, try, try..." Every time I hear that song, I think, "I've got to try. I've got to try to accomplish my goals. I'll never get anywhere if I don't try. When ten miles seems too far, I've got to try. When PTA president sounds too hard, I've got to try. When six kids sounds like too many, I've got to try. When being kind or patient or helpful sounds like too much, I've got to try. When I want to quit...I've got to make cookies, go on a date, put on a smile, and TRY."
Abraham Lincoln said, "Folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."
After this week, the thing that I am probably the proudest of is that I decided to be happy on Friday. And I was.
And that made all the difference.
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