An important addendum

I can't stress enough to 'beware the veneer'. You know, the veneer of perfection. It's kind of obnoxious when families exude it, and really, really, it is always simply a veneer.

I am sorry that I boasted about supposedly being on top of the housework. You know what? Since I posted "I have been cleaning out my fridge every week, blahblahblah" I realized I haven't done it in... two... three weeks? I'm not sure. And even that wouldn't be such a big deal except that it's developed a weird smell and I know there are some lingering moldy leftovers that are the cause of it. Ew.

And really I've been working a little harder at it, but letting other things that I normally enjoy and devote more time to (baking; spending time with Patrick in the evenings). There's no way I can keep everything in order always! Not even close.

So please forgive me if I sounded like Mrs. Haveitalltogether. Let me tell you about my A Day in the Life just show you how not together I am.

Here goes:

On Sunday night I got the idea in my head that I needed my hair done the next day. You see my very good friend was making her final vows as a religious Sister, and I was to be a witness and sign a paper testifying that she did indeed make them, kind of like a Maid of Honour. (It was such a privilege and a joy that she asked me to do this!) So while she was probably, um, praying in preparation for this life-changing day, I was worrying about my hair.

I called several hair dressers frantically on Monday morning, finally got an appointment at one place, and so I packed the kids up and drove forty minutes into the city, so I could get my hair done. Let that sink in one more time.

The dirty breakfast dishes were left in the sink, the boys were wearing mismatched socks. I left the work-at-home daddy with the appetizing thought of cold shepherd's pie for lunch and I roped my mom into had my mom babysit. So I could get my hair done.

The appointment went swimmingly, and I quickly dashed over to the grocery store to grab some icing sugar to make a pan of fudge for the reception for said vows. I meandered around the store -- I was by myself, people! In the morning! On a Monday! -- and picked up impulse buys of various degrees of prudence. A turnip? Why?! I hate turnip and I am pretty certain only Isaiah will eat it. Ice cream sandwiches "because they were on sale"? How... frugal... of me.

I returned to my mom's house where I devoured two chicken sandwiches on bread and an ice cream sandwich. Did I mention I gave up wheat? Did I mention that eating it does atrocious things to me, my moods and thereby my ability to look after my family?

Then I realized I never even got the icing sugar I needed so I headed up to the corner store by my mom's house and the sight and smell of the baked goods there inspired me to buy three shortbreads for me and my children. Another tasty and evil indulgence since I had already fallen off the gluten-free bandwagon (this reminds me of a saying I once read, "Saying 'oh I already slipped up with my healthy eating today, I might as well give up for the day' is like saying 'I dropped my cell phone on the ground, I might as well step on it repeatedly.'"). Plus, nothing says exceptional parenting like bribing your children to get into the car with refined sugar.

I then drove back to the boondocks with Isaiah and Noah both crying and whining, and I knew it was because they were thirsty, but they couldn't reach their water bottles and I refused to try and reach back and hand them to them, on account of me being a bit of nervous driver.

We arrived home and I tossed frozen (wheat-laden... notice a trend?) meatballs into the oven and assembled the fudge. Cranky Toddler was given the car keys so I could concentrate on making fudge and not on his crying. Again, my Exceptional Parenting is enviable, isn't it? Not only that, but I'm can sure you see where this is leading....

We sat down to 'dinner' (broccoli, said meatballs and rice... followed by more ice cream sandwiches... from which I finally wisely abstained, but mostly because I was fretting over what to wear one last time). I gobbled food, paced around, glanced at the clock, then stared it down. Why, its 5:35, and my uber-prompt father-in-law hadn't arrived at the scheduled 5:30. Well, 5:40 rolled around, 5:45. 5:50, and I was officially in a panic. The phone rang and my father-in-law was stuck in traffic and would be there as soon as possible.

It was around this time I realized the fudge hadn't set. I walked into the living room where I could be alone for four seconds and cried. In fact, it was more of a yelp, like a rabbit ensnared by a hunter's trap, too tired, too helpless to really cry, and certainly to fight back.

Finally my father-in-law arrived, we ran, barely saying goodbye to the kids who quickly became hysterical when they realized that the Jig was Up and we really were leaving them. Only, we realized that Isaiah had made off with the keys. I excerised great self-restraint by not uttering obscenities as we starting over-turning couch cushions in a doomed effort to find them. Patrick wisely remembered the spare set. So we once again left the crying kids. And that's when we realized our car battery was dead.

I glared heavenward as though to say "Really, God?! This had to happen now?!" and then recalled yet again that we were preparing to go to the final profession of a dear friend.

So we borrowed my father-in-law's car. Now we were so behind that I purposefully chose not to look at the clock and just prayed with all my might that we would get there on time.

We then showed up at my mom's house, as we had offered to drive her, only to discover she had fallen asleep, and hadn't changed yet into her church clothes. So we were set back yet again.

Honestly it felt like the whole universe was conspiring against me on a day when I wanted so very much to be at peace, to be present, to be joyful. What resulted instead was snapping at my kids, groaning at my pathetic life, and pleading frantically to my husband "Drive faster! Why can't you just drive faster?"

Then when we arrived at the Mass, and took our (too far too see anything) seat, it was more beautiful and amazing then I could have imagined. The dichotomy of my day wasn't lost on me, even at that moment.

I can't adequately express how moved and humbled I was by witnessing this beautiful woman give her life to Christ. I cried like a baby :P  (and later informed a friend who saw the spectacle I was making of myself "That was me HOLDING it TOGETHER!")



I will post pictures later; now back to my regularly scheduled pile of laundry. (How do two children go through so many outfits? In a single day?!)