Sometimes in a woman’s life, there is this explosive need to cry and yet no outlet or appropriate reason in which to release the deluge. For whatever reason, this happened to me this week. I knew during the weekend that I should have watched some ridiculous Hallmark Christmas movie with cheesy music, crummy acting, and a predictable outcome just to lose the internal torrent. But I didn’t. And I paid for it.
As I started the week, we were dealing with an appliance situation trying to get me an American style laundry center instead of the inefficient, ridiculously slow European model I was using. It was finally delivered to our garage and then my husband and some neighbors moved the old unit out and the new unit in. This was a massive task and will literally change my life in Russia.
The very next day, I was doing lessons with the kids and for some reason, I had a melt-down. It could be from the four small voices constantly needing something or from the awareness that I was so stinking excited about a washing machine. Anyway, Number 1 needed help with a science experiment involving simple machines. They may be simple to the scientific mind, but let me tell you for a fact, there was nothing simple about these stupid plastic pulleys, yarn, and some metal washers.
Which is when the floodgates opened.
Right in the middle of lifting the movable pulley, the string fell off and I lost it. I started sobbing-not just whimpery crying. Sobbing. I apologized to the kids, went to my room for a time out, and got a grip. The rest of the day went fine and the laundry saved me so much time that I messed around with my graphic design software for two hours that afternoon.
Later in the evening, Number 2 had a nightmare and came to talk to me about it. He said, “Hey Mom, do you remember earlier today when you were sitting there---all----cryin’ over the pulleys?” I was trying to help him feel safe after his bad dream and yet I was stifling the laughter from my own ridiculous behavior.
I learned my lesson. Next time I feel the need to cry, I’ll quench the urge and make it happen. Maybe over a lever or an inclined plane.
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