Worst. Day. Ever

November 24 - We have a little girl at our house who can be really dramatic.  If she doesn't get a cookie, she'll wail, "I NEVER get a cookie!"  Or if she has to clean her room she'll complain that "Everyone is happy that I have to clean this mess because no one loves me" while big tears roll down her cheeks.  Often when she's misbehaved she'll try to excuse herself by saying that she's had the "worst day ever".  I don't want to point fingers, but her name starts with an N and ends with an -atalie.  Most of the time I sort of roll my eyes and wonder where a child of mine could possibly have gotten such an attitude and where I went wrong.  This Sunday, I realized that maybe the dramatic apple didn't fall too far from the tree because I was having the worst. day. EVER. and I wasn't shy about sharing that with people who asked me how I was doing.  I think they were looking for the standard great response, whoops!

It seemed as if everything was just off from the moment I woke up.  The girls were a little touchy.  The house was a little messy.  I was feeling a little impatient with the world.  This weird, off mood continued all morning and into the afternoon.  Our church meetings don't start until 2:30 so there was just so much time for everything to spiral downward.  For example, even though we have literally all day to get ready for church, there's this inevitable rush to get out the door.  Rushing (and the possibility of being late) make me feel incredibly anxious so you'd think that I would have a plan to keep this from happening each week, but apparently I just can't learn.  Instead of leaving the house in a calm way, we end up running around looking for left shoes and scriptures, and making sure teeth have been brushed. 

This Sunday we had the added fun of having to bring rolls and brownies for a youth meeting after church. So I spent the morning baking (in between refereeing fights and dealing with the world's most sensitive eleven-year-old) and the early afternoon trying to get everyone ready and fed so we could leave.  We were doing okay and the timing of things was looking good when Abigail had one of her total meltdowns. There were tears and sobbing because apparently she "ruins everything" and nothing I could say would convince her otherwise.  This happens about once a week and every time I deal with it badly.  I just don't know how to be compassionate with her when she's behaving like a crazy person.  I start by being kind and reminding her how wonderful she is and how much she's loved but it doesn't ever work and she just escalates until there's no talking with her.  Usually, I end up getting so frustrated by her that I end up banishing her to her room. We're actually dealing with another meltdown and writing the blog is keeping me from yelling at her.

Once we'd moved past the Abby tantrum we moved on to rushing to get out the door.  It was almost time to get in the car when a humongous crashing sound came from the kitchen.  I came in to see glass everywhere from the lid of our electric frying pan that had fallen from on top of the cupboards down to our hard tiled floor but at that point I just didn't care.  I had officially decided this was the worst Sunday EVER! I just turned around, walked out of the kitchen and out to the car,and drove to church knowing that things could only get better, right?


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