One o' Those Days

Here I Am, Heart in Hand.

Frankly... I should have known.

When I woke up to the sound of pee hitting hardwood (and yes, it was fully recognizable as that sort of sound, being aimed up over the crib railing in the room next door), I should have known. You know. That it was going to be one of those days.

One of those days where Prairie Boy's hollers at Prairie Prince to stop peeing on the hardwood result in Prairie Prince's hollers of resentment at being told what to do, which result in the hollers of Prairie Pumpkin who feels rudely awakened from his peaceful slumber.

One of those days where I descend the stairs to an open front door blowing in all manners of chilly, wet, summer storm air and catch a glimpse of Prairie Princess standing outside in the middle of a giant puddle, in nightgown and rubber boots, stirring muddy water with a wooden spoon. Um, hello?

One of those days where I discover muddy boot prints traipsing from the front door right through the entry, dining room and kitchen to the wooden spoon drawer, and then traipsing right back out again...

One of those days where Prairie Guy instant messages me at 10 am to ask me (um... remind me, he's catching on quick) if I am taking Prairie Prince for his morning blood work, which has been scheduled for a month in my day planner (just like the dentist and optometrist appointments that were scheduled, in said day planner, that I completely didn't check, and completely missed 4 appointments last week. Very funny story there by the way, in hindsight I mean, which I will have to tell at some point, but I digress...) of which I have completely forgotten. And am still wandering around in my pj's and messy hair. With undressed children. Playing in puddles in their pyjamas.

One of those days where I get a call from the church secretary and the moment I hear her voice I remember about the kids bulletin, which I am supposed to email to her for printing, which I haven't made.

Yup. One of those sort of days. I should have seen it coming. I mean, I was just setting myself up for one of those days, really. I was just tempting frustration and discontent to push their way through my door. I heard the knock, I looked through the peep hole, saw them there, and unlocked the door. Okay, maybe I even left it open a crack. Yep. I admit it. I asked for it. All those things in my sidebar about striving to live a simple life, joyful in spirit, amidst all those hampers of dirty laundry (five yesterday to be exact) and runny noses? Well, the operative word here is STRIVING. It should really be italicized or something, to stress it's importance. Cause this ain't second nature for me or anything. And today? Well, let's just say today, my life was not feeling romantic, or winsome, or beautiful in any way.

It did not help matters any that last night I was over at a friend's house, helping Berry Girl set up for this friend's post grad party for her son. Okay. I love this friend. She is like everything I would love to be and am not, and quite frankly, probably will never be. She has pretty perfectly manicured lawns, despite living on a farm. I know for a fact she sent pre-cooked, nicely packaged, full course meals with her husband and son on the father's day fishing trip, while my husband and son had to fend for themselves with wieners and beans and the like. She has spotless floors, and a home that screams Martha Stewart. My floors... well, I've already mentioned the pee. And the mud, and well let's just say there is usually a generous portion of peanut butter and jelly thrown in for good measure...

There were perfect arrangements of roses everywhere you looked, (Prairie Guy brought me roses the other day, very sweet of him, but they somehow look second rate next to her roses, positively shameful of me to think I know, but I'm being perfectly FRANK here, remember?). I could go on and on, it was all just... magazine cover quality. Delicate little trays and platters of who knows how many dainties... bright shiny peppers filled with fancy dips, Styrofoam trees of cream puffs... the woman could be a wedding planner.... truly beautiful. And then she came home, glamour encapsulated, perfect hair, perfect face, perfect dress, perfect legs, perfect shoes... *sigh*. You get the picture, right?

And then I come home. And everything that usually doesn't bother me.... bothered me. Immensely. The patience that I usually have when it comes to all the plans and dreams we have for this old yard, well... let's just say, it was gone. I wanted a beautifully landscaped yard. And I wanted it NOW. The contentedness that is usually mine over this little old farmhouse and it's long term potential? Vanished. I wanted it decorated, and finished and shiny and beautiful YESTERDAY. The easy going "keep it simple" attitude that allowed me to have our pastor and 2 other families over for supper and give them homemade burgers on store bought buns and styrofoam plates (gasp)? Appalling! What kind of woman am I anyway?? A styrofoam plate lady. So sad. I sure ain't no Martha Stewart. However much I'd like to be. It just ain't happenin' right now. "Poor, poor, poor me. Poor, poor, pitiful me." (to the accompaniment of Terry Clark's country drawl).

And that's how I was feeling at 10 am this morning. Whiny, crabby, blah, just fully resigned that it was going to be one of those kind of days. But then I had the light bulb moment that revealed truth. It didn't have to be one of those days. I had a choice after all. And I could choose to turn it around. Or at least give it a fair shot. And that's what I determined to do. So I hollered for the kids to put on some nice clothes, and brush their hair. Quickly did myself up and changed baby into something soft and blue, told the kids we were going on a donut date after Prairie Prince's blood work and off we all clambered into the Suburban, them happy as clams, me with a grim faced determination to cheer up quick. It didn't take long.

The velvety green (my favourite color remember)of crops doused in rain, the geese with three fuzzy goslings in the ditch on the side of the road, the voices of my troop belting out the lyrics to "Liza Jane" (truth be told, they sing Liza Jake, we do live in Mennonite country after all) and Bill Bailey (only Prairie Princess sings Bill Baby) at the top of their lungs, well, they had me smiling in no time. Even though I had to hold a 2 year old tight while they searched for a vein with a big bad needle, once, twice, three times. Even though I miss the sunshine and blue skies already and the gray mist and cloud cover contributes to my gloominess, (don't get me wrong I wanted rain, but the sun is my happy friend and I miss him when he's gone)... even though... well, you get the picture, God gave me eyes to see I need to choose. So I chose. I chose silly music, and chocolate dipped donuts, and earnest conversation with four fun loving kids. I chose to ignore (for a moment) the mud and the mayhem and the general chaos that is sometimes my home and life with 5 prairie chicklets. So it is turning out to be one of those days after all. One of those great, winsome, wonderful days.