But sometimes, you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.
Mid-phone meltdown on the phone with Jamie about how this week was a disaster, and how done I am with everything at this moment, Violet decided to slip out the front door and go to our neighbours, where she convincingly told them that she could play inside, and her mom said it was okay. A couple of minutes later, realizing she didn’t go upstairs to play in her room, I headed outside to look for her, finding her there a few minutes later, par for the course of how this Thursday was going.
In the midst of finding her, I was stopped by a crazy neighbour who was talking about something that happened, that she heard from another parent, about an event at Olivia’s friend’s house, that made me shake my head in general wtf-ery.
Hormonal x a thousand, we were going to be late for bringing Jamie lunch to work.
Arriving with lunch, ever the charmer, Jamie remarked how I looked and how I looked as if I was going to turn to shambles, at any moment. I drove away – impressed with how he saw all of that under the giant sunglasses I was using to disguise today’s overwhelm, it was one hundred percent truth.
We drove away. She fell asleep. I drove to the Playplace at Mcdonalds. Unlimited ice (the only thing I’ve been craving lately), and semi-silence if you don’t sit in the play area, it’s what was needed.
We weren’t supposed to be here.
I pulled into the Mcdonalds parking. I was that person, in shambles, ugly crying in her car, in the Mcdonalds parking lot. With the mouth wide open, deep sleeping kid in her carseat.
Unsure whether I’m going to survive the next couple of weeks, with the whole lightning crotch situation (because Dr. Google says this is a real pregnancy thing), the braxton hicks, the to do list of things I want to finish before she’s born, and an email inbox that was full of emails that would need to be addressed; coupled with the fact that I forgot to buy Olivia socks (again) and she lost her fall jacket at school, already, the fact that the boots I tried on didn’t fit and I am right smack in between sizes so I’m going to be stuck in my favorite birkenstocks until she’s born, and the fact that Jamie has been bombarded with evening meetings lately, I ugly cried, in the car, at the Mcdonalds parking lot.
My mascara was everywhere. My hair was everywhere. My overwhelm was everywhere.
We shouldn’t be here right now.
Violet didn’t deserve to come play with random kids in the playplace, but I needed the space to cross off just a handful of the things on my to do list – and wifi and the silence of the post lunchtime rush would allow for just that. Since I had taken away Netflix because of her Oscar-worthy performance that happened when she convinced the neighbour that I not only knew where she was, I encouraged her to go over and ask to play, it wasn’t going to happen at home.
Sometimes, you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do.
Like be the person in shambles in the parking lot, and the person feeding your four year old a junior chicken sandwich for lunch, adding on a toy to the meal, even though she deserved none of that. Because when you’re finished the ugly cry, you’ll then be ready to pick up your big girl panties, make a to-do list and tackle the tasks that are easiest to cross off, crossing off a bit of the overwhelm with every purple line you strike through.
And later on in the day? The ‘No Netflix, No park with your sister, No friends, No iPad’ will be just as effective for the sneakery of a four year old.