Anti-awfulizer

I'm going to be optimistic about today and say this: today is an unusually spectacular opportunity to learn how not to "awfulize."

I came out the gate swinging, right at 5:50 am, dude. I hopped out of bed, got on my workout clothes, and even got Nora to go back to sleep (she couldn't find her bunny--this was very upsetting). At the gym at 6:05. Blasted through my workout, even though I hadn't done said workout in six days because of aforementioned violent illness. Came home, made up some meatballs for sandwiches for lunch. Breakfast was on the table, kids were dressed, lunch was prepared by 8:00. I mean really. Monday morning, who's your mama? That's right, baby, say my name.

By 8:30, I had a playdate arranged. Hung up the phone, went out into the living room, smelled poop. *Grumble* Grab offending kid, go to change diaper.

Screeeech.

(That's the whole machine screeching to a jarring stop, just in case you were wondering.)

A rash. It covered her entire belly, chest, sides, and back. And it was beginning to creep up her neck and down her arms.

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!

She was totally happy! She was running around, playing with blocks, tickling her brother, eating, drinking, and, well, clearly pooping. But she's got this crazy rash. What in the world? I took her to the doctor and it's a virus. Apparently, it does nothing but gives kids an ugly rash and a few cold symptoms, like the wild sneezing fit she had in the pediatrician's office (which, btw, Nora thought was really funny). Oh, and oh yeah, it's contagious. So, no playdate. And no end-of-the-year faculty picnic tonight. I was really looking forward to that, too. I didn't have to cook, the kids were going to see all of their friends, I was going to get some adult time. Sigh. Man. That sucks. It gets worse, too: George is locked into the event, so he has to go, which means he won't even be home until 6 or 6:30. So. We're shut in the house, and it's a longer day than expected.

Like I said--great opportunity to practice my new skill.

My life doesn't suck; this day doesn't even suck. Poor Nora isn't feeling her best (though you'd never know it by her behavior), and it's a good chance to mommy her. It's the perfect day to build a fort, or to bake some bread. Granted, nobody outside our household is allowed to have any of that bread lest they break out in Nora's rash. But, you know. It's the process, sometimes, that is the goal, and not the destination.

I find myself in these situations trying to ask myself, "Okay, this sucks. But no crying, no pouting. Think. What can you do about this? What can we do?" It's amazing how many good ideas are...just...there, waiting for me to ask for them. I guess when I asked for them before, I was being rhetorical.

So they're sleeping now. I ate my meatball sandwich by myself. It was good. And it was peaceful. That's good enough for now.

I think we'll read books when they wake up. *Smile*