Off Days

Do you ever have one of those "off days?" Oh, I'm sure you do. Everyone has them now and again. Every time you turn around something seems a little off, and no matter what you do, you just can't pull yourself out of the funk you've fallen into. I am operating on the day-after down of one of those off days. These are never fun. Yesterday started hopeful, and ended hopeful, but everything in between just went to pot. We started the day with a good breakfast at the dining room table and a big fat list of things to do. I really thought that with our positive, early start and my head on straight I could get most of that list accomplished and have our house livable again by bed time - food in the cupboards, dishes and clothes washed and put in their places, errands ran, dog (that we are dog-sitting) de-flea-ed, and promises to friends and family fulfilled. All done, hopefully, with smiles on our faces and happy good-night wishes at the end of the day. Instead of a timely departure,it unfolded like this: Diapers in the washer - check. Checks for depositing in my purse - check. Suit to take to the dry cleaners - check. Pictures to send to the great-grandmothers - check. Shoes on the kids - check. I better grab a spit rag, just in case. Oooo, smoke coming from the washer. This is NOT on my list!!! Grab the fire extinguisher, just in case (although it wasn't on fire)...

And that pretty much set the tone for the rest of the day. Those checks were NOT in my purse, but in the pocket of the shorts I had taken off. There's an extra trip home I hadn't planned. Those pictures took half an hour in line at the post office to mail, during which my kids had to be separated and standing in corners half of the time. And of course, those dirty diapers, which had just started their wash cycle, had to be fished out of the washer by hand and rung out to take to a friend's house to wash. But by the time the evening was over, we had all eaten a healthy helping of spaghetti and shared a wonderful evening with friends, complete with a birthday party for little Libby's wonderful (only slightly invisible) friend, DahDah - her cat Oof had to stay home and couldn't join us. And sometimes, just maybe, the Good Lord knows what a person needs, because when Adam got home he fiddled with the washer and got all that poopy water to drain right out of it. Thank goodness I didn't have to dip it out by hand... I haven't tried to run it yet today (it still smelled a bit of burned rubber when it was draining), but maybe a prayer will have been answered and my ancient washer will work just fine.

On after-off-day days, it takes me awhile to pull out of the left over funk. Especially when nap times don't go very smoothly, with 3-year-old tempers flaring, and I'm working with 4 hours of sleep (which is my average, but none the less, not much). Days like these call for playing with cranky teething babies, ignoring that laundry piled in clothes baskets, filling up on good left-over spaghetti, and cranking up Stevie Wonder good and loud - a little I Wish will even bring a smile to Max's face. And reminiscing a little doesn't hurt, either. Which brings me to leave you with some old favorite pictures of Kane and a wish that every broken washing machine in your life brings you to friendly fellowship and the quiet inner knowledge that God has it all in his hands.

Kane at 8 months. Megan said just yesterday as we left her house that Kane and Max are twins, they're just born 2 1/2 years apart.

Kane at 9 months. Mom tried to get an 8 x 10 made of this at Wal Mart, and they made her take the negatives to prove that it wasn't a professional pic.

Kane at 11 months, my 80's rocker child.

Kane at 1 year. Love those baby toes sticking out under his jeans. He still has the same expression when he concentrates on something.

Kane at 1 year, also. The crazy thing is that Maxwell wore this same outfit this summer at 8 months old. He may just outgrow his short stocky brother.