It was 6pm and so much was still looming over my head… dinner, baths and bedtime for the kids, the dirty house, the endless pile of laundry, and my own need for a shower. I almost always come last, as it should be when you choose to have three beautiful children. And normally, I’m okay with this.
That evening, it was pissing me off.
My husband was playing his stupid computer game, the baby was napping, and the kids were coloring pictures of Spongebob. It had been a long day of tending to everyone’s needs but my own and I was done. I grabbed my towel and a book and slipped into the bathroom to fill the tub with hot water that would soothe away the stress of the day. I thought I had gotten in undetected, but as usual, when I step out of mommymode for a moment, there is a shift in the atmosphere.
“BAAAAAAABE, WE NEED DINNER!”
It was more of a request than a statement. My husband is a great man. He works hard to provide for us, does laundry sometimes, and puts the toilet seat down always. But he does NOT cook.
Luckily, he also has the innate ability to sense when I am close to losing it. When I replied, “GO AHEAD.” and closed the door, I didn’t hear another word.
I sank down into the tub and read. And read. And read. It was Bloom, by Kelle Hampton, which is an amazing book by an amazing woman.
I emerged from the bathroom an hour later with pruned skin, clean hair, and a new attitude. When I found my family, they were sitting around the table eating hot dogs. Just hot dogs. Normally, this would have caused a mini-argument about the importance of vegetables and “How hard is it to put a bag of Steamfresh broccoli in the microwave?” But not this time.
When my husband looked up at me and said, “Feel better?” I said, “Much better,” and silently passed out Cars gummy vitamins. I popped a few into my own mouth, then made my plate and sat down to join them.