Out the Other Side

So, it’s been a hard couple of weeks here at the House of Peevish, for various reasons. We’ve been sick or tired or cranky, or any combination thereof, and none of us has been at our best. At least, not all the time.

We’ve been sick, definitely, with various and sundry colds and whatnot. And we of the broken sleep do not do well when we are not well rested, so that adds insult to injury. Plus, we’ve been working hard. That Girl has been going full tilt boogie with therapies and schoolwork and homework and activities, until all she wants to do of a weekend is veg in front of the TV. I go with her, because I am the Kid Sherpa, so wrangling takes its toll on me too. And BDH? Well, his job is just normally full steam ahead, at the best of times, and that’s just the way it goes.

And it is fair to say that there has been stuff going on in the world that has influenced our mood. A week ago, we were riding the euphoria of seeing the bigoted fuckheads who ran this country summarily tossed out of government on their collective arse, and ushering in people representing change and hope and diversity and the Canada that we all used to know and love before Crime Minister HarpHerr started his dictatorship. 

So that was nice.

But the not nice stuff began happening that has given us some angst as well. Look at what’s happened in recent weeks in places like Beirut and Paris, and elsewhere in the world, in the real world and online, and we find ourselves struggling to comprehend some of the fucking madness.

And on a smaller scale but much closer to home, we have been dealing on a daily basis with the everyday stresses that take their toll. The fuckhead dangerous drivers we encounter. Trying to negotiate the highway robbery of buying our car. A hawk swooping into the yard and making breakfast out of one of the little friends I have been feeding this year (but since we can’t really identify who breakfast was, and if we in fact knew them, it was just bad enough that Mr. Hawk sat on the patio to eat and left bloodstains everywhere.) Endless construction. Bills adding up and figuring out where the money’s going to come from. It’s not war and peace, but it is hard on a much more personal level.

So. All this stuff adds up and piles on and nags at a person. Is it any wonder our resistance gets low, or we snap at our kids, or we are less tolerant of the petty annoyances of others?

And then, because we’re feeling like crap, we start to let things slide. Exercise goes out the window. The house starts to get messy. We’re eating out. We’re watching too much TV. And our motivation hits the skids.

So, when a day comes along when you start feeling good, you get that moment of “AHA. THERE’S THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL.” You feel like you’re coming out the other side of the pile of crap you’ve been wading through.

I’ve been feeling that bit by bit this week, but today is that AHA moment.

A couple of positive things can really change a mood. Today it’s been little things. Our days recently have been fully scheduled, appointments and volunteering at school and the like, on top of the usual. Today was therapy, then stopping at Tim’s to take That Girl to breakfast while we waited for a flu shot clinic to open, then the flu shots, then school, then home to get to work on stuff like baking and housework. That was our morning, anyway.

Well, therapy was fine. We got to Tim’s, and That Girl, sitting in the car in her booster seat, randomly smiled and gave a big wave to a young police officer who was stopping off on his break. We followed him in, and he was all “Was that YOU I was waving to?” and being all charming and friendly. She was so pleased. Then, our local is oftentimes staffed in the morning by older moms. They were lovely today, fussing on Stinkerbelle like she was a local celebrity. She was beaming, sitting at our little table with her cocoa and her Timbits-with-sprinkles.

Then, we drove over to the Public Health office for the flu shot clinic. We were a little early, but I expected to have to line up. The staff there were lovely and friendly, and we were the only ones there for flu shots. And the public health nurses are tremendous. I adore them. Our nurse today handled That Girl’s pre-shot drama and tears like a consummate pro (and a mom to two youngsters), suggested the nasal spray instead, and talked her through everything that would happen. She treated her (and me) kindly and we were in and out in 20 minutes. I would never go anywhere else. And That Girl left feeling it was a positive experience.

Back to school and we were cheerily greeted by all the staff we met, and I found myself home well before 11 am. I had the better part of a day still to myself, time to sweep and do dishes and make bread, AND post here. TA-fucking-DAH, people.

So, I did. And while I did, I listened to some podcasts. Now, in our appreciation of pop culture, BDH and I are firm believers in supporting musicians or actors or whatnot that appear to be good people. We try to avoid supporting arseholes, regardless of how popular they are. So, sitting and listening to podcasts where Daniel Craig is giggling uncontrollably — JAMES BOND! GIGGLING! — and swearing and telling stories about what a dork he is, or Bruce Campbell is doing hilariously bad impersonations, or flipping thru Twitter to see Tom Cavanagh dropping Canadiana into his feed… well, that kind of stuff makes me really happy.

So my bread is rising in the kitchen and my floor is swept and I’m feeling like today there’s a shift in the whatchamacallit. I’m feeling pretty good for the first time in days.

Some days, you feel like it’s been worth it, taking all the pies in the face. Some days, you come through it all feeling good.

Let’s just hope this doesn’t turn into one of those days where I end up just standing there, hip deep in pie.