The End of the World

This could be a long one. Brace yourself...

Valentine's Day was fun. We got a babysitter and went to a party (something new for us on V-day, for sure). We ate our favorite sushi and then played The Not-so-Newlywed game. We must have been on the same wavelength (I'll attribute it to the sushi), because we did fairly well. We were tied for the lead after the last question and went into a tiebreaker. I was answering the question, with Jeff trying to match my answer. The question was, "When is your mother-in-law's birthday?" We got it wrong (by one day) and lost. I'll let you guess which one of us didn't know when her birthday was. We also had a little white elephant gift exchange. The candy bra I found was a hit. By the time we got home, I was way too full to eat any dessert (again, blame the sushi), but we've been snacking on this tasty treat for days:

Jeff did good--something unexpected, thoughtful, and goes well with ice cream. Just what I love. Oh, and the best part was that after the party the girl who was watching our kids wouldn't let us pay her, even after we insisted several times. Now we have to find a way to make it up to her.

Damon asked me last week if I was perfect. Laughing, I told him of course not. "Almost," he said, perfectly serious. Touched, I smiled at him. "Not even close, " I said. "But thank you."

A week ago, our ward primary had a talent show. I asked Damon what, if anything, he wanted to do for it. He told me he wanted to play the piano. Now, he doesn't know how to play the piano, but has taught himself "Mary Had a Little Lamb" during choir practice at the church. Okay by me. He decided to sing a verse, too. This was all him. Sorry about the bad lighting--still pretty cute.

Allie has a black eye. She was wrestling with Damon, hit some part of the fireplace, and came away like this:

We thought it would be fun to teach her something to say when people asked her what happened. This is what we came up with. I know, we're dorks.

I think it looks better today, so I'll take another pic after she gets up from her nap. She had a tough morning this morning, sneaking frosting from my giant cookie and applying makeup to both herself and Kyla. I love the second pic of Kyla. She looks pretty with makeup on, don't you think? Allie wasn't smiling immediately after these pics, as I sent her to timeout.

Oh, and Allie still hates Jonny (my brother, who she hasn't seen since Christmas). We had the following conversation last week:

A:I don't like Jonny without his shirt on.

K: He has big muscles, don't you like that?

A: No. When I grow up, and get big muscles, I'm going to smack him.

What a sweetie. Speaking of sweeties, I looked over at the high chair the other day, and noticed Kyla doing this:

I so remember both of my other kids doing this, and for some reason, it just made my day. I love that girl.

Alright, pictures out of the way, basic catch up completed. On to what I wanted to write about. Friday was one of those days. You know the kind, where everything (and everyone) is irritating for no particular reason? I was sweeping the floor AGAIN, and I started looking around. Everywhere I looked I saw something that needed to be cleaned; the walls, which don't clean up well at all, looked dirtier than usual. The windows were dirty, the carpet needed to be cleaned...the list just grew longer and longer the more I looked around. And my spirits sank. I started feeling like no matter what I do, it's not good enough. And everything I could see was reminding me of that fact. The dirty floor, the clutter on the dresser, fingerprints on the mirror--they were all mocking me, telling me that I'm just not good enough.

I put the girls down for a nap and started watching a show that had come in the mail from Netflix (an awesome Christmas present we got this year!). I'll spare you the details, but the point of this particular episode was this: "What would you do if you knew it was going to be your last day on earth?" While completely unbelievable and implausible, I got sucked into the drama of the show, and when Jeff got home from golfing, I was riveted, and emotionally involved. I had to pause it with about 10 minutes left so that I could go pick up Damon from the bus. On my way to the bus stop, I just keep thinking about that, and asking myself what I would do (or wouldn't do) if I knew it was going to be my last day on earth.

I wouldn't make Damon go to school, but would spend the morning snuggling with him and letting him play with my hair. I'd let him eat candy for breakfast and wouldn't tell him he needed to make his bed or clean up after himself.

I wouldn't get mad at Allie when she had an accident. I also wouldn't make her go to timeout for anything but hurting someone else. I wouldn't tell her we needed to comb her hair or that she was singing too loudly. I would let her eat whatever she wanted all day long, including my giant cookie with the frosting on it. I wouldn't make her take a nap and would let her wear whatever she wanted.

When Kyla cried, I wouldn't just put her in her high chair with some cheerios or a meat stick and hoped she would feel better. I wouldn't put her down because I had something else I needed to do, or let her cry for a few extra minutes while I finished something up.

I wouldn't exercise or even make my bed, and I would eat whatever I wanted all day long, too.

I would make Jeff stay home from school and would take any last requests from him (dinner, getting things ready for the kids, etc). I would hug and kiss him, never wanting to let him go.

I definitely wouldn't spend any time cleaning (unless, of course, Jeff requested it). And I doubt I'd get angry with any of them all day long.

My mind was whirling as I thought of all these things, and Damon stepped off the bus, happy to see me, but not quite the perfect son I had been remembering in my mind. When we got back home, the house still wasn't as clean as I wish it had been, but I was more okay with it. Allie woke up from her nap a little sad, and I held her a little longer than I normally would have. I was more patient with Kyla when she sat on the floor crying, waiting for me to pick her up.

Soon, though, everything was back to normal. I never did let the kids eat whatever they wanted or skip timeout just because I was feeling nice. I resumed my role as mom, doing the best that I can. And even though I know that I am not perfect (or even "almost" like Damon thinks I am), I'm the only mom they have. And I think they know that I love them. So, for today, that's enough. Fortunately, there's always tomorrow to work on being better.