Today was a day out of rhythm. Everything was off. The kids and I didn't jive, my coffee was cold, I forgot to wash my favorite pants. Tomorrow is Jairus' birthday, and I am just a mom dragging her feet to bedtime. We picked up our niece Jaya for a sleepover, and went to the store. Usually I take pride in one of my nieces or nephew coming over. I make a great dinner, pop popcorn, all of it. Not this day.
This is all I had left in me.
And I messed that up too.
Really, it wasn't the ruined pizza rolls. Or more true, the pizza rolls were the topping of my failure Sundae. Lately, Failure is my name. But you can call me Nita. 30 years old, married for over 11 years, with two kids and two English mastiffs. I am a homeschooling photographer, wife to a cop. I am witty, off the cuff, and a little sarcastic. I neither confirm nor deny accusations I have an inappropriate sense of humor. I love Jesus, but I don't go to church (we can save that for another day). Today, all I feel is chunky, lame, lazy, failure. After the kids were done eating, they shuffled into Jairus' room to watch a movie. I felt defeated and drained. I'm a terrible example, then Jaya hugged me and said, "Thanks Auntie, I haven't had Pizza Rolls in a long time."
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