Little Miss Crankypants

I am so cranky. Just ask my husband. Or my kids. Or my...well, you get the picture. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I have cut my food intake by more than half. (Insert me grumbling, Homer Simpson style...."stupid diet") Or maybe it's because I can't find four or five items of Gracie's clothing anywhere, and it is eating away at the edge of my brain like an overly ambitious mouse. Or maybe it's because I'm working full, 8 hour days now instead of the 6 or 7 that I had become accustomed to.

Who am I kidding? It's all of those things, plus a dozen more that can't even be vocalized much less written down. I have recently felt like my life is a little out of control. I can't even put my finger on it to give it a name, but I feel like my entire life is an unorganized, chaotic mess. Nothing seems to please me like it used to and although I have had so many little victories with regard to my temper and my marriage, everything still feels odd.

It's as if I'm standing at the edge of an abyss just waiting to be pushed in. There is this lingering sensation that there is change coming, but I can't figure out why. Nothing has changed here...my life is the same. No warning bells or whistles, no impending life changes and everyone is enjoying pretty good health. So why the heavy feeling in my chest and the sensation that my life is careening down a darkened highway sans headlights and seatbelts? Your guess is as good as mine.

The things that keep me from jumping from the car in a panic are simple. For instance, I was playing the piano the other night and Gracie came and sat down next to me. She said that she wanted to sing, and when I asked her what song, she said, "Welcome Me". That is Graciespeak for the hymn "He Keeps Me Singing". This is a reference to the last verse that starts with the words "Soon He's coming back to welcome me". She sang along with gusto and then said, "Now, very soft", so we sang it through again in whispers. How could that sort of interaction not brighten my day?

Then there is Nathan. He is six and so full of questions (and interesting answers, I might add) that I think my head might explode sometimes. If nothing else, he keep me on my toes and is the kid equivalent to a lie detector test. If you've ever had a six year old, then you know what I mean. Everything is black and white, and his ability to (selectively) remember every thing that I have ever said is uncanny. To be honest, it's a little creepy. He remembers things that I can't.

Oh, and apparently I don't have a functioning brain based on the things that he tells me. He uses that voice reserved for the severely mentally handicapped when he explains that he is not wearing clogs, he is wearing Crocs. What is really funny is that he confidently engages in argumentative conversation with the absolute certainty that he is right, even when he's wrong.

Strangely enough, I feel better after getting some of this out on virtual paper. The abyss doesn't seem to be looming and the little victories and joys that I have enjoyed seem more significant.