[transferred from instagram]
July 30th, 2019
I had Stanley Steemer come clean the couch. It is similar to the experience of having a mole removed. Going into it you think it’s going to be so great that this mark on your complexion will soon be forgotten, but instead you’re left with another, almost identical, mark that you’re supposed to feel better about.
That was how the day started. Then Isla got paint on the newly “cleaned” couch. I put down bowls of beans and rice in front of the kids at lunch. They asked for a cheese cracker and avocado to go with it and I went on some exasperated rant about why couldn’t they just say ‘thank you!’ when I give them something instead of immediately asking for more. Then Avalon asked if I was mad and I said, “No, I’m just tired”, to which she responded “of us?” and I felt so sad and sorry and also like I could have sincerely replied “yes”. I bought them watermelon mints from the check-out isle at the store so they would think I was fun and then Isla cried the whole ride home because she was sitting on her pacifier. I wanted it to be nap time so I could wash the dishes without feeling bad that I wasn’t pushing someone on the swing. I wanted to stare at my book and pretend I was alone. I wanted a project I finished, like cleaning the floor, to stay checked off the list for a few hours. So many instagram accounts rely on the illusion that when people make cookies, no one spills anything. That’s just not how it is.