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Empty fridge and broken hangers.

Right now I have an empty fridge and I don’t mean an “Oh my God, please excuse the mess!” when your house is fucking perfect-empty kind of fridge. I mean, if you opened the door, there would be several bottles of salad dressing and some pickles and the sad soup I tried to make out of our Thanksgiving leftovers that I’m just going to call, “Well, I tried.” Come on over and get your hot, fresh cup of Well, I tried!

I could have gone to the store today, but, instead, I spent the entire morning putting away clothes. 3 hours of bin sorting and shirt shaking and hangers under beds including the few broken ones I found hidden in the stuffed animal bin because my kids know that I will, in fact, flip out if you break perfectly good hangers because you are too lazy to lift your hanger out of your closet.

By the way, money still does not grow on trees kids and even your crappy plastic hangers are worth something.

But, I can’t blame them because we’re all lazy right now. They’re too lazy not to pull their clothes off of hangers with such force that plastic shatters and I’m too lazy to go to the store. I’m finding we’re all shifting our priorities.

For dinner, I found a bag of frozen ravioli in the back of the freezer and I took the last of the very stale bread and made croutons for the sad, lonely bag of pre-chopped lettuce that expires tomorrow. And this is the best I can do today.

Also, we got the tree today. The tree this year is small in comparison and eldest complained about the size and I was disappointed that lately I see my failures in her words and action. Because that shit stings. Seeing your failure and then riding home with it and then tucking it into bed and still telling it you love it because you do and because you have to. It’s yours, after all.

So, I have this feeling of “Whoa.” now that the small-ish tree is up and those kids are finally in bed and I don’t have to face my failure again until tomorrow morning.

And for anyone reading this thinking, “Stop being so hard on yourself!”, please know that I’m not disappointed with how things are going. This is where you say, “What?” No really, I’m actually quite pleased with the empty fridge and the little bit of growing pains/attitude from the small person I sometimes want to strangle.

It’s all so fantastic and awful all at once. I know she won’t remember complaining about the tree and they won’t remember the empty fridge. Shit, they’ll probably even sing my praises to their college roomies, “My mom made her own croutons!” like it was more Pinterest-y than Necessity.

And even with the empty fridge and the sometimes shitty kids, we want for nothing. We have it all. The little house and a lot of love and those crappy moments are so startling because, really, they just aren’t happening enough to become our normal.

The fact that the empty fridge and shitty attitudes still startle me is good. It means we’re mostly not empty and shitty.

And something about that feels so right.

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