The Sometimes Incidents

Sometimes, my 3 year old takes off his shoes in the car, usually about 30 seconds from our destination. It's everything I can do to stop myself from throwing the shoes out the window.

Sometimes, I see my students holding hands on the playground and think it's so precious, I can't stand it. Then I think how incredible it is that I have so many friends in my life I can freely say "I love you" to. And mean it.

Sometimes, people who only post things about their kids on Facebook bug me. But people who only post about their child's sporting victories just plain piss me off.

Sometimes, I get back to work on Monday and have a 3 second moment of panic because I have temporarily forgotten the name of all 25 of my students who I haven't thought about for 48 hours.


Sometimes, I look around my house and fear the Hoarders producers are secretly clapping with glee, knowing they'll have another episode to film soon.

Sometimes, my downstairs neighbor pounds on his ceiling/my floor while I'm practicing Jazzercise and I wonder why they don't appreciate dance aerobics at 5:15 am.

Sometimes, I feel guilty when I don't copy and paste the stupid "I have a husband/son/dog/plant/chia pet I love more than life itself" status updates from Facebook. But I think they are really stupid and can't bring myself to do it.

Sometimes, my ankles hurt so bad, I spend Saturday afternoon cooking in my running shoes for extra support.

Sometimes, I walk home from Jazzercise after a great workout, and actually feel kinda pretty. Which is fuckin' funny since I'm sweaty as hell with messy hair and bad skin.

Sometimes, my skin is so bad I feel like I might as well be wearing a training bra and braces while doodling in my diary about the captain of the football team.

Sometimes, I listen to really bad music really loudly. And sometimes, I make my son listen to it, too.

Sometimes, I check my phone frequently just in case I missed a text from someone who might make me feel loved.

Sometimes, I mix two different cereals in one bowl, just to show I can live on the wild side.

Sometimes, I feel like I have a pretty good handle on living with a child who has multiple life-threatening food allergies. Other times, I just wanna be able to have pizza for dinner.

Sometimes, I leave my house feeling frustrated that I have 23403980 things to do around it. Then I go to work and leave work feeling like I have 54009834 things to do there that I'll never get to. Only to go back home to all the undoneness. And it makes me wanna just keep driving.

Sometimes, when one of my third graders tells me it's their brother's birthday (or their mom's or second cousin's twice removed or their dog's or their aunt's nephew's sister-in-law) I wanna scream "WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS?????"

Sometimes, I miss sleep, TV, and reading for pleasure.

Sometimes, when the Netflix envelope comes, I wanna march over to the Netflix people and ask them when I'm supposed to find time to watch whatever is in there.

Sometimes, when my child says Hi to every person in the grocery store, I think it's really cute.

Sometimes, when my child tantrums because he wants to say hi to someone who might be unavailable, I think it's less cute.

Sometimes, my child cuddles with me during bedtime stories and songs. And I find it easy to ignore all this other crap!