F-A-I-L

Have you ever had one of those days when you wake up and feel out of sorts? Not quite sure what could be the cause, but inside your brain is the chemical equivalent of hydrogen – innocuous and explosive. The future is contingent on that one critical spark. You’re the Hindenburg at take-off, floating through the air, filled with good intention of traveling from point A to point B, then something gets in the way and your fuel ignites and the rest is history so-to-speak.

Did you know the Hindenburg had a smoking section? Talk about asking for trouble…it’s true. Ashtrays were filled with water and ship officers were assigned to that room to monitor safe smoking procedures. Let me repeat that phrase: safe smoking procedures. On an airship filled with hydrogen gas, an extremely flammable substance. Prepared for a transatlantic journey carrying close to 100 passengers and crew. And the cause of the 1937 Hindenburg disaster is still unknown. Hmmm…they might reconsider that smoking section.

In any case, there I was at launch this morning, full of hydrogen and ready to go. My son, the sweet child that he is, was moving slowly, would not eat his breakfast and we were already running late on a school day. I accelerated. No more food – let’s get dressed.

I gave him clothes, helped him off with his shirt, (he always has problems getting his shirt over his head) and walked away to allow him to finish while I packed his lunch. I returned to find Ben with his socks changed and his shirt on backwards. Pulled his shirt off again and put it on the right way. Quickly threw on his pants and ran for his shoes, “late-late-late” ticking in my head. Instead of following me to get his shoes, Ben wandered over to the kitchen table and stuck his nose in the toy catalog that he had been reading all morning instead of eating. “Like we need any more toys!” I thought. Spark! I grabbed the catalog and threw it across the room. Ben starts crying and yelling. Fantastic.

I can’t deny that I’m mortified by my reaction to the intentional lack of concern and motivation on Ben’s part. I’m human. And obviously, the worst mom in the world at this point. Let me just wrap up this story by saying that we made it to school – late – enduring more hysterics over the catalog mixed in with empty threats (made by me, mom of the year!) and several false starts concluding with the infamous line “…last chance to stop this nonsense Ben!”

I’m sharing this story to say I’ve been there. I know every family and every situation is unique, but I know you’ve been there, too. Perhaps carrying helium instead of the flammable hydrogen…but I’m sure you’ve had moments of tension and high drama.

I don't know why the people we love the most can light a flame inside of you quicker than flipping a switch, but it’s true. They are the smoking section inside the Hindenburg – need a light?