Better Day
(This was written yesterday. No surprise, I'm a day behind.) This afternoon, Noah begged me to push him on the swing. I dragged myself outside to help him. No underdog, he informed me. I complied . It only took a couple pushes because (hooray!)he’s learned to pump. I stepped back and laid on the warm, black surface of the tramp. The backs of my eyelids blazed red as I soaked up some much needed vitamin D. I laid there, listening to the creak of the swing, taking deep breaths, thinking about my day and how much more relaxed I felt than the day before. I’m not made for being a chauffer. I counted a total of 7 trips I made on Wednesday. (Almost a half tank of gas! Ga!) I came home angry and frustrated. I growled at my kids and was prickly to my husband. Once dinner had been served, I parked my car-seat-shaped-butt on my bed, announcing that I was not moving for the rest of the night. I didn’t. When I said my ...