Boy, oh boy.
Summertime has officially hit the R household full force. I'm talking we are all about the I'm boooooored and the there's noooothing to doooooo, and the Why can't we go to the pooooooool again? and the If you don't stop _______, then I am going to ________. (That last one was me.)
And I can't say that I'm all positive, like the world is full of rainbows and butterflies. I'm off-schedule, and a little grumpy about it. Curmudgeonly, one might say. Today I had to apologize to my kids two times for snapping at them unnecessarily, and even after all the apologizing drama (it's amazing how quickly they forgive and forget), my son pointed out later that I yet again had a "mad voice". Yes. Yes, I did. Do you know why? BECAUSE SOMETIMES A MAD VOICE IS WHAT IT TAKES TO GET YOUR ATTENTION BECAUSE YOU DO NOT--NO, YOU REFUSE--TO LISTEN OTHERWISE.
I think we all need a teensy, tiny break from all this togetherness that has been happening around here. Together is good. Breaks are also good. And right now, WE NEED ONE.
I have a cold. It's weird to have a cold in the summertime, and yet here I am, stuffy nose, sore throat and a cough that only happens after I've juuuust fallen asleep. This is the most annoying cough that anyone could ever have, ever. Today my ears have been stopped up, so I've been all like "What did you say?" and "Huh?" all day. That's right. All. Day. Long. Then I'll yawn (this cold has made me so very tiiiiired) and they'll pop and I'm singing hallelujah, but only for one, maybe two words of the whole darn song because before you can say hallelujah three times in a row, they're stopped up again. Su-per.
Today, while my daughter was at a camp, I dragged my son to 4--no, 5--stores. In a row. Do you know what his least favorite thing in the world to do is? That's right. Shop. Long about the fourth store (the third store--Toys R Us--made him very happy), which happened to be Pier 1, he started moaning and groaning and sitting right on the floor, not to mention testing out the store's fine selection of lounge chairs, saying Can we goooo hooooome?, which we could not, because we had not enough time to go home but too much time to do one more lap around Pier 1. And I was not even inspired by a single piece of anything I saw today, so I texted my sister In a decorating slump. Yuck :(, but she didn't text back, and I felt very, very sorry for myself. What does one do when one feels very, very sorry for herself and her son is laying in the store's lounge chair, playing with the umbrella light's remote control, making the lights go blink, blink...blink, blink...? Go to Wal-Mart. It only seemed right, because you will certainly find someone who is more down on their luck than you are at Wal-Mart.
We observed several interesting people at WM, one of them being a boy of about, oh maybe 12-15 years of age. He had long-ish bangs and was bundled up in sweat pants and a hoodie sweatshirt (hood up, yes, and bangs in eyes, and I was like hey, can you even SEE in there?) like it was 32 degrees and snowing outside. I don't know what he was shopping for but I felt a breeze when he passed--he was on a mission.
The good news is that a) there is an abundance of nighttime cold medicine out there and b) God willing, I have a new, fresh start tomorrow. One that will probably include an apology by someone who is ill-tempered, the popular phrase I'm bored, the remnants of a summertime cold, and maybe even a store or two (let's hope not). But I learned today that overall, even when I'm in a mood, together is much better than apart, and while we have a little rumpus every now and again, I actually wouldn't have it any other way.