This weekend was one adventure unfolding after another. The apex was definitely Saturday afternoon, when KJ, Liv and I were upstairs cleaning and Katelyn took the BRIGHT BLUE Crayola paint her siblings had left out (despite strict instructions to never, never do that) and painted our entire toilet bright blue. Not a biggie... not undoable. What was a biggie was how she then splattered the blue paint all over the downstairs carpet, ending with painting one of our entire thick carpeted stairs... blue. Blue, blue, so blue. When she came upstairs with blue hands and feet, I started yelling, I'm not going to lie. I knew that was a bad, bad, wicked sign. By the time I got downstairs to see the damage, I was an insane person. No one was exempt from my wrath. I am not sure I have ever lost it in such true Mommy Melt Down form. If I have, it's been years. I was IRATE. I was not in control, and knew I was not in control, so banished all of them to the upstairs to never be seen or heard from again. It was horrible, the whole thing. Yes, screaming like a psychotic banshee at children was horrible, but the damage was horrible. Horrible, horrible. I started desperately trying to save my carpet, feeling true loathing. It wasn't pretty. When the Double B got home about forty-five minutes later, I was still scrubbing our still-blue stair and his eyes got wide as he listened to me whispering the story/confession to him (I pretty much spent the rest of the day whispering, it was safest). He stroked my hair, talked to me kindly, and headed upstairs to be the parent he knew I was no longer capable of being. What a guy. The carpet is mostly saved. There is still a small smurf hew in one corner, but oh well.
Some time later the Double B went out to shovel the driveway and I started dinner. Then when I called him up to eat he said "Actually, KJ is hired as our babysitter and I'm taking you out." Huh?
It's true, KJ had his first real-life I'm-In-Charge (we've waited his whole life for this!) and the Double B took his frazzled/pregnant/tired wife to the Olive Garden, where we had delicious food and laughed a lot and got a few check-in's from KJ, and I felt much, much better.
I actually think that is a wonderful story, because everybody pitched in to save the family, since Mom was a raving lunatic.
It made me so tired.
Yesterday by the time primary was finished I was sporting a stellar headache -- my counselor Caetie is delivering her baby on Friday, and Krista only has a month left, so this was our last week as a completely pregnant Primary Presidency -- and we headed home for dinner, etc. By the time 7:30 got around, I was so sick with that dumb headache that I was in bed with the lights out and the heating pad smooshed on my head, leaving disaster throughout the house and my innocent husband once again in charge. He's a champ. Eleven hours of sleep later, I am fine, my children are happy, and he'd done the dishes this morning, so we all had something to eat on. And there was a text from that good man, "I hope you feel better today. I love you!"
Lucky, lucky Marie.