The other day was not a five star day. It was one of those days where you just want to check the day off early and go to sleep until the next. Which is basically what I do every day, but with good reason…as I am full of child. I am sleeping half my day away. When I am awake, I am never fully conscious, aching everywhere and waddling slowly through the house, sighing.
I honestly don’t know what the deal is with my constant sighing. But I sigh. Noticeably. Like people hear me often and ask if if I am OK.
Lately, in addition to obvious third trimester aches and exhaustion and the weird sighing issue, came a new symptom:a raging mood.
My dear son was unfortunately caught in the cross-hairs of my rage twice in a twelve hour period. Not for heavy duty disobedience mind you. My red hot rage was kindled because he was trying out some new teenage skills and dabbing (like Cam Newton) at precisely the wrong time. I just went absolutely insane.
And I know, because I have been teased about it enough, that I don’t really get mad. I never yell, blah, blah, blah. Well, I do. There was yelling and narrowed eyes and undeserved character assassination and more arguing in the car on the way to school.
I didn’t want send him off to school under a dark cloud of his mother’s insanity, so I mustered up a half-hearted apology about my words and behavior. He graciously accepted my apology, but then added, “You are definitely chief of sinners in this car today,” in a still hurt 13 year old response. Upon hearing those fighting words, I really blew a whole other gasket internally. Praise the Lord I had the self control to drop him off as nicely as I could but drove away fonts of tears.
I came home and told Jason all that had happened. “How dare that kid talk to me like that!”I raged. This was soon followed up with the barely intelligible weeping of the secret fears in my heart.”I am a really horrible mom for being furious at him for acting like a normal thirteen year old. Obviously, I am a failure as a mother and how can I possibly care for five? I can’t do this. I can’t do this!” He imparted a great deal of comfort and reassurance, but reminded me gently that maybe hormones had something to do with this explosive and irrational behavior. He had felt like he and the kids had been walking on eggshells, but that he understood that I was tired and achy and pumped full of hormones and that this was not my natural self. I loved him for his understanding. But then I cried, because eggshells? That is not the atmosphere I want to create in the house. Tears, tears. Guilt, guilt.
Fast forward to after school. I apologized with sincerity this time and my boy told me five good reasons why dabbing and debating to your mom was not particularly honoring, and all was forgiven. The relationship restored. This is good. That is the one thing I love about conflict…resolution is so sweet.
Still, I felt super edgy and I just kept my mouth clamped shut while the kids made noises that seemed SO LOUD and SO IRRITATING. Like tapping a pencil on the table. Or ripping paper. Or singing. I succeeding in sighing a lot but not screaming, so again, thank you Lord for self control that was certainly not of my own making.
Then we come to the cherry on top of this day. Another car incident. Not quite as horrible as this one. But strikingly similar.
Dropping off the girls at a friend’s house for choir practice that evening, I got stuck backing out of a driveway I have backed out of at least 200 times. We carpooled together so I had TONS of practice backing out of it. It is a long , slightly curvy, very downhill driveway, and it takes concentration and precision to back out of. The driveway and I have had our moments, but I have always prided myself on how I had really come to OWN this driveway. I MEAN OWN IT.
We don’t carpool anymore because we have a combined six school aged kids between and not enough money for a conversion van. Therefore, I have become rusty backing out. But honestly, moments before everything went down, I actually remember thinking, “I still can tackle this driveway. In the dark. I am still awesome.”
Until something like this happened:The exact same car, except in reverse and instead of driving off the edge and flipping, I got stuck in their ditch and then proceeded to back into a tree. Twice.
So to recap, I have a tree directly behind me, the van is rather tilty-like in a ditch area, and I was completely resolved to get out of my predicament before anyone saw.
I realized I was going to have to drive on their lawn to level the car and point it toward the street, and the whole time I am thinking, “What if I tip the van over?” Not, “Maybe I should get out of the car.” Or “Maybe I should ask for help.” There is no time to be humble or clearheaded when you just want to have an embarrassing nightmare end.
I stepped on the accelerator and somehow made it to the street without tipping the van. At the street I saw out of my periphery, to my horror, that I had just put on a show for someone. I knew it had to be someone else dropping off their kids for choir, and it was most likely a friend.
All manners were forgotten. I just couldn’t deal with facing anyone. Therefore, I zoomed off as fast as I could. I am surprised my tires didn’t squeal.
I didn’t go straight home, which is about 2 minutes away. Instead I drove past our house and tried to think of anything except for a banged up car or my deep embarrassment (maybe I should go to Target, I am out of coffee creamer!) but eventually I pulled up into our community pool parking lot, took a deep breath, heaved myself out and walked to the back of the van.
I let out a small sigh (again with the sighing!). The bumper wasn’t dangling off the van as I had feared, but it had two little brown dings from the impact. Not great, but I could deal with a couple dings. I have suffered much worse.
Next came telling the hubs, who rushed out to examine the damage and said it wasn’t even as bad as the time(s) I “bumper kissed” his car. So that was good. Yet, it is probably bad that he isn’t even all that surprised anymore.
All that was left was coming face to face with the mysterious person who witnessed this entire incident. I came to find, of course, it was a sweet friend of mine, who was basically doubled over with laughter as she retold my tale of ridiculousness from her vantage point. I doubled over with laughter listening to her.
It brings me such great joy to laugh and especially to laugh with others. So laughing with her was the best possible ending to my late pregnancy grumpy day.
Funny how God can use even a little car mishap for good! He can redeem anything!
I would love for you to share your tales of ridiculousness in the comments! Get it off your chest and into the light! I know I am not alone in this!
I am feeling called to write and share more this 2017, even with my fifth baby on the way! Will you please pray for me to continue to share my words more abundantly this year? I love writing, and I feel called to write, but I need to put my pride aside and just do it.