We are struggling with the "pain of re-entry" around here...
It snowed-- upwards of 45 cm, apparently-- while we were away, and although the snow removal service managed to clear our driveway and a path to the front door, we arrived home yesterday to find our back gate and garden completely, and solidly "snowed under". All access to the back door was completely cut-off, and so, The Rescue Team were unfortunately unable to come to work in our absence, since I had only given them a key to-- you guessed it!!-- the back door.
The house is messy and a bit smelly, having been essentially closed-up for the past ten days, with the exception of a daily-visiting pet-sitter (who, thank God, also had a key to the FRONT door). There are suitcases exploding all over the place, and buckets of beautiful, but sandy sea-shells that we carefully carried home on the (*&%$#!) plane yesterday, overturned on all the carpets. We've got to tidy it all up, assemble and attack Mt Washmore, throw open all the doors and windows and air the place out... and Get Ready for School and Work Tomorrow.
We're all feeling... a bit testy, shall we say, this morning.
But when I opened the comic section of today's newspaper and saw this strip, I quickly got my head turned 'round right. Isn't it the TRUTH, how "paying-it-forward" affects us all in a negative way, as well as in a positive way??? We had such a hard day yesterday... I was a train-wreck by last night, and let my husband bathe our children and put them to bed, rather than risk "raining my wrath" down on their poor little heads at a time when they should be feeling soothed and relaxed.
This morning, once I have finished this ENORMOUS cup of Very Strong Coffee (oh, how I MISSED my Very Strong Coffee while I was away...) I am determined to make a "game" of Shovelling Out the Pit We Call Home. We're going to plug the ipod into the big speakers, blast some really great music, and divide up the jobs.
The kids are actually thrilled at the prospect, and actually can't WAIT to help me wash and dry the kitchen floor. Probably because my wildest dance moves usually (and accidentally) occur when I'm skidding around on the tiles with a mop. They just can't believe This Old Gal still has "it" in her... So, we're saving that job for last. The "reward", if you will.
And when it's all done, I'll make them each an ice cream sundae, and myself a chocolate martini, and we'll celebrate.
Because when you make an effort to strip away all the crapola and "lighten up" your attitude, more often than not, it turns out that Daily Life isn't so bad, after all.