"F" could stand for fed up. Those moments when just one last irritating thing has happened to push you over the edge. Probably not a big thing; just a small thing, but a small thing on top of all those other small things that all add up to an "F" moment.
"F" could stand for fed up. But what it really stands for is another "F" word that I try not to say around my kids, but definitely think in these moments.
I had one of those moments this morning. We were getting in the car to go to preschool. I had already nagged the older children through going to the bathroom* putting on boots and mittens and hats and not hitting each other and actually getting out the damn door already.
So this was my admittedly negative state of mind when we emerged into seven degrees and six inches of snow on the ground. The older kids wanted to play in the snow. I made them get in the van. I got the baby in on his side, then trudged through the snow around to the other side to buckle Charlie in. Cubby refused to even try to buckle his own seatbelt, on the grounds that his gloves were too puffy and it was too hard. Probably true, but still kind of annoying, as I then had to trudge back around in the snow to buckle him in and shut his door.
And then, just as I was about to shut his door, about a cup of snow fell off the roof of the van and directly into my open purse.
I shut Cubby's door and had my "F" moment as I attempted to scoop out some of the snow without losing any of the contents of my purse in the snow on the ground. They didn't hear the word, but I said it. And it wasn't "fed," either.
Have you had any moments like this lately?
* We have two out of three out of diapers now! Hooray! And don't ask me how pathetic and cliched it makes me feel to devote so much thought and effort to other people's bathroom habits.
5 comments:
Yup. That would be the moment I realized, "Huh, my glove usually fits pretty tight around my wedding ring. I wonder why it's so comfortable today."
Apparently the ring came off with the gloves ... maybe at work, maybe at the school, maybe at the grocery store.
I have a F Bomb paperweight in my office. Your sister got it for me a couple years ago and it get's comments all of the time. Only problem is when a kid came in and asked what it was-my answer, "A Friendship Bomb" so that anyone you give it to becomes your friend! Hmmmm maybe a good gift for A????
Reminds me of the time I went with a friend to dinner and placed his left-overs container in the back seat. When I reached for it when we got back home, saying, "Don't forget your Hungarian Chicken Paprikash," it spilled into my open purse. Mary in MN
Laundry detergent woob woobing its way off the top of the washer and spilling all over the laundry room floor.
Dog running in through the dog door covered in freshly evacuated possum shit.
Dog running up to Bubba and rubbing her face/eyes/soul all over him to get the freshly squeezed skunk off of her face while we're at my parents' house with my MiL who does not like dogs and has to now sit in the car with us for the 2 hour drive back to our house.
So many F moments.
Luckily, we have the perfect sentiment.
As I was looking out at the rain this AM and bemoaning the fact I had errands to run, I thought about you, and the snow, and three kids that you have get ready to got out, and all the stress involved in that endeavor, and I felt really silly for complaining. And I hadn't even read the blog yet!
Hang in there; you've only got how many more months to go?
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