Saturday, July 27, 2013

Trying To Do It All

About a month ago, my husband approached me about going to a baseball game with our church.  I was so happy that he was taking initiative to be a part of our new to us church, I jumped at the chance.  Plus, the game was on his birthday.  Birthdays for the children in our home = awesome.  Birthdays in our home for the adults = just another day.  This made the game plan even better!

We purchased tickets and my husband even took the day off. 

As the event grew closer, I wondered how awesome this event was going to be.

 I've been waking up at 5:00 a.m. and working 10 1/2 hour days.  Needless to say, I'm kind of weary.

Sitting and watching something has never been an easy skill for my seven year old... unless it's something he chooses and it involves a screen.

They have a wonderful park, splash pad and bouncy houses at the stadium... but I'll be the one who takes them.  No relaxing for me.



The evening for the game came.  I packed a blanket in case it got chilly and umbrellas because it was raining.  I had cash for the bouncy houses and snacks.  We ate dinner before we went so we didn't spend this week's grocery money at the ball park. 

Should have been great...

Except that it poured down rain at times...

Except that I had worked all day and was tired...

Except that the boys had only seen me for about an hour total each day and our relationships were off balance...

Except my seven year old was hanging on me, pulling on me, squeezing me and stepping on me...

Except my husband, who deserved to relax on his birthday and watch the game, didn't really pay attention to what his family needed (I had to yell to him that Liam, 2 1/2, was LICKING the seat in front of him)...

Except it was too cold to play on the splash pad...




I took the boys to the park for a couple of innings, we got a snack and sat huddled at the top of the steps because it was pouring down rain.

Then we left.  4 innings into the game, we left.  I was not having fun.  I was so tired that I couldn't even fake my involvement, an interest, or love and patience for my children.  So, we left.

Tears flowed down my face on the ride home as I listened to my two boys cry that they wanted to go back to the ball game. 

Tears for my husband's very memorable birthday. 

Tears because I wasn't capable of doing it all.

 

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