I'm having a bad day. Or a bad decade. I can't be sure because I'm allergic to chocolate and can't think clearly.
My dad died seven years ago this week on my mother's 49th birthday and six weeks before I turned 30. Now I kind of hate turkeys and Christmas music makes me cry.
"Why are you sad, mama"
"I'm just having a bad day, baby."
"Here, let me hug you. Will that make you feel better?"
And then I'm cursing myself for not thinking through the decision to skip on the waterproof mascara with the holidays coming up because raccoon eyes are not cute on anything other than raccoons - and maybe lemurs - and I look like the morning after a drunken sorority house party.
The Husband texts me to remind me about the grocery shopping. He's at work and knows I'm in need of a few reminders. Unmedicated ADHD is only funny when your wife forgets the toilet paper and not at all when the only options for the holiday meal are hot dogs and leftover macaroni because somebody forgot to go shopping before all of creation closes up shop at the end of business in 24 hours. Family and religion is big up where I live. Nothing is open past six p.m. most days of the week and you'd better already have that children's tylenol on hand for those midnight cries and surprise fevers unless you feel like driving two hours to the nearest store open 24 hours.
"We've already got a turkey. Just grab a small ham. And maybe some sweet potatoes."
"I hate Thanksgiving."
So I wipe away the mascara streaked tear tracks and freshen my lipstick and get on our snow boots and warm up the truck and we buy too much food for our little family of three because it's all #firstworldproblems up in here. And then the child sees a familiar cashier and asks me to buy a chocolate Santa Claus and I do thinking it's for herself but she gives it to the cashier because she thinks she is nice. Maybe, I think, I'm doing something right, after all.
Bottom line is I need to remind me that I can at least try a little harder to make some sunshine. I would do it for you. I owe it to myself. Maybe I'll print this one out tonight and color myself happier before I sleep.