Good Problems

Today was a Monday.  Sean took Friday off last week, so technically, it was a Monday after a long weekend.  You know how those can feel, right?  Bummer. I didn't have any plans, and the day stretched out long before us.  Peanut was sneezing up huge snot-tusks, so I figured we would stay close to home.

It didn't start out a bad day, but as it wore on, I started to feel more and more worn myself. We were not harmonious. Boodge wanted to spend the day in the backyard running between kiddie pool, swings, and sandbox.  Peanut wanted none of that. Turns out she was pushing through her real tusks too, the two incisors, and coping with four tusks meant she wanted to be inside. She made it known.  Boodge made it known that he didn't want to come inside. This scenario played out several times as I tried to get opportunities to take him out, only to have Peanut re-emphasize her point.  She only napped half an hour, despite being exhausted.  Poor Peanut.

I attempted to take them out in Milli-van to get some errands run.  I thought a change of scenery may do us all good.  It ended with Peanut sobbing hysterically all the way home.  After which, I made dinner while holding her virtually the whole time, except when I needed both hands.  She cried every time I put her down until I picked her up.  Boodge had a meltdown when I told him he couldn't have candy right as dinner was getting on the table. During dinner, Sean and I talked about bills. After dinner, we gave Boodge a little candy, and then he had a meltdown after because we refused to also give him ice cream.

Just one of those days. By dinner's end I was done, frazzled, short-fused. I was cleaning the kitchen just counting the seconds until we could put the kids to bed.  Wrestling with myself as I tried to let it go and stay positive. Sean was playing ball with both of them in the hallway and since he was not grumpy, and he was not the one they had spent their frustrating day with, he managed to get them both into a happy state.  Funny how that is.  Peanut and Boodge were both giggling hysterically.  Peanut no doubt drunk on exhaustion. 

Kitchen cleaned, I took a few minutes to myself at my computer.  But shortly I heard Peanut coming towards me, and I pretended I didn't hear her for a minute. I wasn't ready for any clinging, any "mama mama" begging.  But she didn't beg. She crawled into the kitchen and laughed and laughed. I looked at her, bewildered. "What's so funny?"

Then I got down from my chair and put my face to hers and laughed too, because baby laughter is completely irresistible. She laughed even harder, turned around, and started crawling back to Sean and Boodge.  "C'mon, Mama," she seemed to be saying, "Join the fun." I followed her, crawling, laughing, "I'm gonna get you!" She shrieked with delight.  My heart was full of baby laughter, and suddenly all the petty negativity washed away.  She led me like the Pied Piper with the music of her laugh. 

And then something Sean's Irish uncle Tom said once popped into my mind, "These are good problems to have."  With the Irish accent it sounds even more meaningful.  Good problems.  I have two healthy, thriving children, a loyal, loving husband who is a great dad, a home, enough to eat, safety, wonderful friends and dear family.  More blessings than I can list.  A day that is not harmonious, a grumpy day filled with crying kids and meltdowns and power struggles.  This is truly nothing.  This is a good problem to have.

I think I will make that one of my new mantras.