I had a photo shoot today for a local girl scout troop. It was hotter than beans today and not a day I would usually choose to be outside in, but the idea of an hour of alone time without the screeching kids, begging dog, messy house, laundry or nagging husband and I jumped at the chance. I used to fear being alone. The thought of being alone gave me chills.
Now I revel my alone time. I seek it out like a lost sock. Always looking, searching…looking.
After the photo shoot I went to the grocery store to pick up milk. Just between you and me though, I was just trying to stretch out my alone time. I took my sweet ass time, bought a bunch of crap we didn’t even need. I even stood in the freezer section and read some of the Halloween issue of Martha Stewart Living (I love her to pieces).
When I was in the check out line a young kid came up behind me in line. I offered him the opportunity to cut in front of me in line. He was just buying a single Gatorade after all. He smiled and said “no thank you” and said that he was having a fantastic day and was enjoying his day, he wasn’t in a hurry and he had all the time in the world. The nosey noser know-it-all in me wanted to ask why, but the respectful adult that I am trying to be held back.
While I was paying, he started chatting with the cashier that he apparently knew. Turns out that this young kid and his fiance’ had just called off their engagement and had broken up.
I admired his upbeat attitude and general happy-as-a-clam happiness. I wish that young kid the very best.
Then I got home.
I walked in to a tornado fury of attitude, resentment, energy, whining, smelling of bacon, hot-house. I almost dropped my bags and ran out the door.
Apparently the evening wasn’t so fun and relaxing for my family. They were hot, tired and cranky. My husband shot me glances of resentment and frustration. With lots of nods like “this evening has been hell-welcome to the hell hole”.
My son was racing around the house like a crazy person on crack. That boy gets fits of energy that can rival the Tasmanian devil.
My daughter was whiney and cranky and only wanted to be held.
This situation was the exact opposite of what I had just left-the young kid buying Gatorade who had just been dumped by his fiance but still calm and happy as a clam. It was like I was on the twilight show.
Life is directed by the kind of attitude you have.
Turns out, the evening was hell here at home because my husband was trying to watch the football game and didn’t give my kids the time of day. I would act like a whiney, energetic freak to get attention too. I love my Al-Bundy-esk husband and all, he is a great dad, but he brought that on himself. It was his shitty attitude that made the energy in the house a hell hole.
I brought the calm to the house that was desperately needed and I learned a big lesson today…
Don’t schedule photo shoots on football Sundays.