Friday, October 17, 2014

Sometimes You Need to Just Say F#@* It

Oh my! Wow, I can't believe it! I am sorry this post is coming out so, so late, dear readers. Time absolutely flies when you are engrossed in amazing things and I was completely up-to-my-ears in Hallmark worthy fun today, oh yes I sure was. What? It's not that late and you wouldn't really notice anyways because nobody reads blog posts immediately after they are posted unless they're written by Ree Drummond? Ha! Nice try...but I'm still going to tell you what I was sooooo busy doing today!

You see, it's been another one of those weeks, friends. One meltdown after another, my week has slowly crumpled into a pile of goo....and not even the fun kind of goo, like Floam (remember that stuff??). 

It started out alright, I suppose. Celebrated some good ol' Ignore the Bastard Christopher Columbus and Instead Have Fun Doing Whatever Day. By 3PM, however, Two Kids, One House was starting to play on repeat and let me tell you, it is not a catchy tune. I don't know how moms of multiples do it. I don't know how moms of three do it. I don't know how moms do it, period, because let's get real, I'm not really doing it at all this week. Not well, anyways. 

At one point I had a beef-covered spatula in one hand, a sobbing 8-year old in the other, coffee grounds and compost covering my staircase, a dog trampling the toddler to try and eat said compost, and my phone going off again.

It's been a seemingly-endless series of: wake up, stub a toe, lose a sock, run out of milk, have printer problems, clean muddy paws, yell at yelling toddler, sign referrals from school, argue with husband, and fall into bed wondering how to make it better tomorrow, knowing dang right nothing is going to be better.

I tried forcing myself into a positive place. I thought of how much I have in my life. How lucky I am. How blessed I am. How happy I should be that I'm not sick, or have sick kids, or am homeless, or am living in a war zone.

Didn't work. Made me feel worse about myself for being ungrateful and narrow-minded. Now before someone goes blasting me in the comments about how this entire post is about first-world problems created by an ignorant, middle-class woman with too much time on her hands, just know that I know all that already, k? Won't be shedding any lights around here with that noise. I'll be the first to agree with you. But I also know there's a ton of people out there who, like me, can't keep perspective like that all the time. Flaws Forgiven, world. Flaws, Forgiven.

So the days and hits kept on comin'. Night after night, I went to sleep feeling exhausted, but unaccomplished. Consumed with guilt, but unable to stop doing the things that made me feel guilty. I was, in no uncertain terms, a hot mess.

But today? Today, I made it better.

I'd had it, man. I mean it. This morning, I opened my calender, deleted every single task, appointment, and reservation....something that is unheard of in JenLand. And then.....well then I filled the entire day with one huge block that read these four words:

Just say F#@* it.

I was tired of having things go wrong and feeling like every single thing was all my fault. It's not all about me, you know. I know, I know, it shocked me too. As someone who takes everything personally - including the world's perception - it absolutely stunned me into stupid-girl giggles when I woke up this morning and thought, "This stubbed toe? This isn't your fault. You're not the one to blame. You can't fix it. So f#@* it. Just say f#@* it."

And, right or wrong, I took that perception with me into every single one of my problem scenarios today....even the ones that were absolutely all my fault. I decided I wasn't going to take responsibility for any of 'em. 

My big kid came home and burst into tears because I didn't have enough butter to make homemade biscuits. F#@* it.

My little kid decided the grocery store would be an awesome place to try out some of those screaming techniques she's been practicing. Glares all around! F#@* it.

My husband came home, ignored me, and continued being an overall punk because of the argument we had last night. F#@* it.

Can I please tell you...since I've started refusing responsibility for anything, everything has been awesome.

I did exactly what I wanted to do today. At one point it meant doing laundry - and it was awesome because now my favorite flannel shirts are so fresh and so clean clean. At another point it meant eating obscene amounts of feta cheese while watching The View - and it was awesome because feta. I decided to try my hand at being Little Miss JenJen Homemaker and bake something for the bake sale - and it was awesome because look:


I made those cute little things...me, the woman who 24-hours ago couldn't do anything right, couldn't make anyone happy, and wasn't worth the trouble....she just kicked Martha Stewart's ass in the kitchen.

I'm not going to lie, this whole way of thinking is way more fun. I got plenty done today and even though I'm typing this later than my Friday schedule dictates, I'm pretty dang happy, perched in my half-done, garbage pile of a makeshift office, typing away on a laptop I'm fairly certain I will break at some point in the near future. But you know what? If and when the laptop breaks.....f#@* it. 


Nothing is worth making yourself miserable. Can't control everything. Can't change everything. Give it your best shot, and then move along.

You may even end up with some of these bad boys...


Just look at that happy punkin. Doesn't stop grinnin even though his kin is all pureed up and about to be in meh belleh.

Anyone else have a week like I did? What's your favorite way of letting go? I'd love to hear about it in the comments down below. And of course, as always, thank you very much for reading :)