What do I say? It's been a difficult couple of days. Tired days full of tired, sick boys and a busy husband. I didn't want to blog because I didn't want to sound too negative, but today I decided not to paint my life all rosy when it isn't because then this wouldn't be an honest account. My life is a happy one, charmed really. It is not without it's difficulties though, of course...
On days like yesterday I struggle to find an appropriate outlet for my frustration. There's no one to blame when I'm tired and boys are sick, tired, whining, and fighting and my house gets messy and Kevin has a lot of other things he has to do.
So I pray. I pray to have a better attitude, to be patient, to not allow myself to take it out on Kev, to just survive the day without damaging the relationships that mean the most to me.
And I clean. I've found the best thing I can do is take it out on my house. I channel that frustration into cleaning with a vengeance. I mull things over as I go. Well "mull" seems like too mild a verb. I get worked up as I pick up, sweep, vacuum, scrub, dust...I let myself think about all the "injustices" I've endured during the day, all that has gone wrong and take it out on the dishes (washing, not breaking).
Whistling while I work isn't nearly as productive as silently raging. Is that awful to admit? It really is very therapeutic. When I'm done I've worked off a lot of steam, and my house is clean and peaceful. I feel so much better. That's the good thing about hard days in my life...they usually end with a messy house just waiting for my session.
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