Gardening. Flowers. Birds. I cannot get over how much I’ve missed this. And now there’s Jane, who begs to go outside and never wants to come in. She runs to every flower, yelling out the colors while I clean out the flower beds. Yesterday I did a load of laundry, let the quilts dry on the railing, and opened every window in the house. I firmly believe the weather in heaven will be 68 degrees and sunny.

Enjoy your weekend!

*I’ve gotten a few requests for the paint colors we used in the dining room and kitchen. The kitchen is Rainwashed, and the dining room is Glimmer (both Sherwin Williams). 

This face says it all. This face is my life right now. See the irritation? See the condescension?

She thinks I’m a dum-dum in this picture.

She is a little person now. My little baby is less and less a true baby. Her little cheeks aren’t as full. Her little body is stretching out. She repeats everything like a chirpy mockingbird. This week after work I took her to Kroger, where I could not find a parking space.

“This is ridiculous!” I muttered to myself.

“Ridiculous!” she yelled back from the back seat.

And then she proceeded to yell “ridiculous” at people all through the store.

She does what she knows she shouldn’t. Then she grins and giggles when she gets in trouble. Whew.

But she is still a delight. A cheerful, sunny, hilarious, giggling delight. She thinks Mabel’s sneezes are the funniest thing in the world. She wanders the hallway upstairs calling, “Oh Mabuuuhhhllll?” She gives me hugs even when I don’t ask for them. She runs to the old swing in the backyard and screams “IT’S BROKEN” over, and over, and over.

I don’t know what I ever did without her.

Ah. Today looks better and brighter. Thank you for all your kind emails and words of encouragement yesterday. It helps to know I’m not alone. Doesn’t it always?

Yesterday was a better day, by far. I got nine hours of sleep last night and woke up well rested for the first time in a very long time. The Janester and I have been on our own for seven straight days and it’s been tough.

Last night after I put Jane to bed and fed Mabel, I sat on the back patio by myself. I listened to the mocking birds wind down for the day, watched the sun set and lights across the neighborhood flicker on as people got home from work and dinner. Our house is up on a hill, and looks down on several streets. We’re smack in the middle of a city, and yet, it feels a little bit magical to me. I pulled my coat tight around me and sat in the dim air, enjoying the chill, enjoying the birds. Life is lonely lately. But still beautiful.

There have been times in my life where I knew I hadn’t acted right, times when I cracked up a little.

Like the time when my mom was in the hospital for an emergency gallbladder surgery and I’d been up all night and a man tried to pick me up in the parking lot of Big Lots where I was going to buy shaving cream because my legs were super hairy and I snapped. Called him a perv. Threatened his life. Told him to never speak to women he didn’t know again. He literally ran away from me.

And then there was the time I was a waitress in high school and a local dentist chewed me out over the phone because we didn’t make to-go salads, so I told him we would, and then I put every single ingredient on the salad bar (including three different kinds of dressing) into a container and gave it to him at the drive through window. Not my finest moment.

But this weekend (which started Thursday night), was worse. Worse because I was on my own and sleep deprived. Worse because I had a sick toddler, a sweet little girl who was vomiting and pooping and not sleeping. Worse because I was sick. Worse because Mabel bit me when I fussed at her for growling at Jane. Worse because the electrical wiring in our kitchen started to perform its best rendition of Poltergeist, complete with flashing lights and appliances that turned themselves on and wouldn’t go off.

Worse because of the way I handled it.

 I did some yelling. And some crying. And I’m pretty sure I may have scared Jane (I don’t really care if I scared Mabel or not, she tore the skin on my hand and left teeth shaped bruises there). Although she wasn’t scared in these pictures. She was mad at me for not letting her play with the buttons on the malfunctioning stove.

So after I threw the breakers, assuaging my fears that our house was going to burn to the ground, I sat on the ground with my little girl. I was not proud of myself. My little girl, who besides being sick, has come into her own, bursting through the door of the terrible two’s with a vengeance. Yes, she is bratty. Yes, she doesn’t like to be told no. Yes, she slammed a door so hard, on purpose, that the handle busted through the dry wall behind it.

But all that doesn’t matter.

I read a meme on Pinterest that said something to the effect, “You are responsible for your actions, no matter your mood.”

My mood, and the lack of sleep, and constant alone-ness, and the bratty toddler, and the biting dog, and the flickering lights didn’t give me a license to yell. Or act crazy. Or flip out.

So I sat down on the floor and held her, and played with her flash cards that she had been trying to show me when I was yelling. We did nothing the rest of the day and into the night but hang out. We dressed and undressed her baby doll 800 times. We watched Lady and the Tramp and barked at the screen. I didn’t yell anymore. We got take out. I shut Mabel in the guest room to make sure there would be no more biting (don’t even ask me what my future plans on that are yet). It was better. I can’t take back my little crack up. But I can reboot, start over, and try again.

I think that’s what Mondays are for.