So, I was thankful on Thursday. And for most of Friday. And a little bit of Saturday. But it’s now Sunday evening, and all those warm-fuzzy feelings have deserted me. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m still thankful. But that feeling is buried way down deep under anxiety and annoyance, instead of bubbling up to the surface in a wave of holiday-fueled, misty-eyed joyfulness.
You see, I have spent Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday all in the very close company of my family. I’m not even talking about my extended family. I’m talking about my husband and daughter, here. I love my husband and daughter. I love them more than I can even begin to express in the small confines of my blog. I love them so much that I would do anything for them. I would fight my way through any obstacle — even spiders and clowns. I would stand steadfastly by them and support them, even when I know they are wrong or when I don’t agree with them. I am grateful and blessed to have them in my life.
But, apparently, we can’t spend five days in a row together without getting on each other’s nerves. Husband has his agenda. Daughter has her agenda. I have my own agenda, too, although pretty much no one cares about it. Husband and daughter, both strong-willed and extremely intelligent people with the mad reasoning skills of a manic lawyer hopped up on caffeine, can’t agree on anything and love to argue. And I end up stuck in the middle, while doing piles of laundry and learning to give the cat antibiotics and B12 injections. And, although it’s not part of this post, I have to add (just as an aside) that giving a cat any type of medication is not fun. They seem to grow extra legs and sprout claws everywhere. And the shedding! It’s like being engulfed in a blizzard, except it’s all cat hair. Not pretty.
I read about moms and wives who are content and happy in their family life. I have to admit I feel the sting of envy. It’s as if their lives are tinged in the most beautiful tones of sepia perfection. They have beautiful houses filled with cherished memories, and plenty of time to feed their artistic and creative selves. My house is cluttered and a bit squidgy around the edges and has cat and dog hair lurking in the corners and under the beds. And, if my life were a photograph, it wouldn’t have beautiful and artistic sepia toning. It would probably be a polaroid, but one that’s been dropped and stepped on so that it’s all scratched up and grungy. Far from having the time to feed my artistic and creative self, I have to lock the bathroom door just so I can pee in peace. Let’s just say there’s no such thing as “me” time in my house.
And so, I have come to the only conclusion I can reach: my family is defective. This is unfortunate, because I have grown used to them. I’m quite fond of them, you see, so a return is out of the question at this point. I guess I’ll have to continue muddling through as best I can. Hopefully, Husband feels the same way. I would hate to think he is contemplating returning me to sender. Yikes!
Which brings me back to here: thankful on Thursday … wanting to run away by Sunday. Yep. Sounds about right. Luckily, tomorrow is Monday. Husband heads back to work. Daughter heads back to school. Normal activities and their ensuing zaniness resume. This is reason enough to be thankful, indeed.
Sadly, I’m still stuck with the whole medicating a reluctant cat thing. But hey, nothing is perfect, right?