Rough Patch

All right, enough is enough. Valentine's Day is over, I think it's safe for me to return to the blog world. You've pitied yourself enough, Ari. Get your nose to the grindstone and get back to it. Plus, I missed you guys. Not being able to get my thoughts out each day means that I've suffered from an extremely short fuse lately. One might even say that I have been one nasty bitch. And I knew I would be, which is why I took a break. No use taking it out on everyone.

That is not to say that I am justified by any means. In fact, I can admit when I'm wrong. I'm not wrong often, mind you, but I can admit when I am. Perhaps I should apologize to my Chris, who has dealt with my mood swings and snappy remarks, but I'm not going to. The man is perfectly capable of handling me without my giving him further leverage. Besides, half the time, he brings that on himself.

No, I'd much rather apologize to my little guy. Now don't get me wrong, my little one can dish it right back to me, but still, sometimes I forget he's only seven.

On any given day, Kade gets up and does his morning routine. Ninety-nine percent of the time, he does well on his own. He can coordinate outfits to my satisfaction. But on Valentine's Day, for some strange reason, he came downstairs trying to wear a plaid shirt with jogging pants. Uh no. So I sent him back to his room to change. He was frustrated. He came down with three or four more obsurd outfits before I screeched at him to just get dressed, we were going to be late for school. This frustrated him more. So he and I went at it for a good two minutes, before he mashed on his shoes and stomped out the door.

As we got to school, I remembered what day it was, so I looked to the backseat. I wanted to wish him a good day, even though we just fought... but what came out was some nasty sarcastic snippy, "Have a nice Valentine's Day." Even I was shocked at the tone of my voice. Damn it, Ari. He looked straight at me and said, "I know."

Ouch.

I watched, miserably, as he ran off to play with his friends. To compound matters, when I got home, my Chris called to ask if I'd seen "it". Seen what? He told me to go to the living room. Oh fucking hell, I'm the meanest bitch in the world. There on the sofa were two Valentines, one from Chris and one from Kade. There was a stuffed monkey and a box of chocolates, all for me. I think I must have cried for an hour before I even attempted to open one of the Valentines. I wanted to rush to school and grab my little guy for a big hug right then and there, but I didn't. Instead, I grabbed a box of markers and set out to make Kade a Valentine from me.

I hate Valentine's Day, but I did it anyway.

The night before, Kade and I had sat up doing his Valentines for the class. I snuck one in for him from me. So when I went to pick him up from school, he gave me a hug and thanked me for the surprise Valentine in his bag. Then I presented him with the one I'd just made. Then I apologized for yelling at him and he apologized for yelling at me.

As it turned out, the reason he was wearing such a horrendous outfit was because his father had woken him up early to go set up the surprises for me. I love my Chris, but the man has no sense of fashion or coordination whatsoever. Kade was only wearing what Dad had picked out for him to wear.

And this is the point where, if this were a Dr. Seuss tale, my heart would have grown three sizes too big. He and I can fight with the best of them, but when he opened his bag and saw the surprise Valentine and treat I'd left for him, it made his day a little better. Thank goodness, I had the foresight to think of that.

I have to remember that it's not all about me. There are other people, too, that are going through it as well. When I took Kade home, I snuggled with him on the couch. He hugged me close and started to say the catchphrase that had always pulled me through in the past, "I know you miss ba--"

I stopped him this time.

"No, Kade. This time I missed YOU."