Sunday, April 22, 2012

Messy meltdowns...

I wish there was some sort of signal that we had between us women that would be a pre-signal for a meltdown.

Perhaps the purple handkerchief on the head or the bug-eyed sunglasses or turquoise shoes.. something the men would never think of.

And then when we show up to church with the banana head-dress and all of our friends only speak niceties to us because they know that at any given moment we could explode.. wouldn't that be nice?

And their husbands would say something like, "Wow! It really seems like you guys were getting along well today... but what's with the banana hat?"

And then she would say, "What hat?" and "What would you like for lunch?"

And then men, being what they are, would get distracted by the food and forget about the banana hat.

No.  It's never that neat.

Meltdowns are messy.  But we have options.

1) Stay home during a meltdown because you hate everyone and everything, and why spread the poison?

2) Go to church anyway and hope that no one says anything or makes a big deal of anything.

3) Move to Australia.


So, I was planning to move to Australia, but it would be hard to get there and back before my husband returns from his business trip to China.  And the kids.. what do I do with them?

So then, I guess moving is not really practical.

How about staying home?  These are tempting options, except how do I explain not going to church?  I hardly ever get sick.  Do I feign illness?  what?  Like my kids are going to say, "Hey Mom.. you are up at six, in your workout gear, cleaning the bathrooms and.... now you are sick?  ???"  See.. it doesn't work.  It's just easier to tell them the truth.

So, I picked door #2--going there and just trying to make it through.  And so what if I start to cry?  It's not like I'm going to roll around on the floor, bawling like a baby.  We're women.  That's what we do.  We cry.  Get over it.

So, I did.  I just got over myself.  Why I was having a meltdown is not really something I wanted to talk about, nor would it be profitable to discuss it here, but nobody died.  The marriage is intact, and the kids are safe.  Everything else is frosting on the cake.

And even in the worst circumstances, Jesus still died for my sins--especially sins of the banana-hat wearing, bug-eyed sunglasses donned, and turquoise shoes fashionista..  like me.  

9 comments:

Mrs B said...

but you could still move to Australia... pretty nice over here ;o)

Organizing Mommy said...

HA!! I knew my Australian readers would all chime in!! Love it!

sara said...

(hugs)

Jenny P. said...

The unofficial lesson of the year at my Bible study group has been, "You can still lead through a broken heart; you can keep talking through the tears." Easier to say than do, but know you're not alone learning this.

Ruby said...

On the other hand Mrs B, we are all such laid back ladies here...Do we want a tantrum thrower? :-) No really, Jena, come to Australia, it will fix it!

The "code" thing is real. We had a lady prone to fits of passion, who would wear very bright and badly applied lipstick when she was in meltdown mode.

BTW one of my security words is amill....how did they know?

Herding Grasshoppers said...

You kind of reminded me of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

But YES! We need a CODE!

Do you think carrying around a tub of Nutella, with a spoon sticking upright in it would get the message across? Or would that just attract children, hoping for a bite?

Cracking up at Ruby's lipstick friend. Do you think she did it intentionally, as a signal? Or that she was just so upset she applied it badly?

Jena, wish I was closer, and I'd take you out for tea. Or a margarita ;D (Not sure if you drink any alcohol, but that sounds good anyway.) Digital hugs to you, from afar. Glad the marriage and children are well.

Julie

Organizing Mommy said...

I think carrying around nutella with the spoon is the perfect solution. And tea!! Yes! I"m all about tea.

Mrs. Parunak said...

Oh, hugs! I'm so sorry you were in meltdown mode with your hubby gone.

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