Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Who cares about the dishwasher.

Half way to work this morning and I found myself balling my eyes out in the car.
I’m super stressed lately. The AC in our house recently broke and while we finally have resolved that scenario, the dish washer has decided to quit draining the post-wash water (the disgusting smelly water), the garage door only opens and closes when it wants to, and my car has an intermittent funny noise that mysteriously disappears when I send my husband to investigate—and of course it’s the kind of noise that is nearly impossible to describe in such a way that the hubs will say, “ah, okay! I know EXACTLY what it is!”. The daycare has ants, the baby is on a crib strike and my carpets are in desperate need of vacuuming but the baby is terrified of the vacuum and I can’t bring myself to put him through it. Oh, and the biggest stressor—I received my formal layoff notice! August 19th. Dooms day.  In preparation, I have surrendered my bank account to the hubs to manage and have already had to endure the wrath of, “do you realize you spent xxx at Marshall’s last month?!”. Yep. Good times.
And then, being a female, I have the normal girl ‘life-bites’: will my saggy stomach ever go back to its cute tight self? Am I doomed to endless summers of ‘mom swim suits’?!
Strangely enough, none of these things opened the flood gates. It was Paul Simon and his song, “St. Judy’s Comet”.  He’s such a bully.
I hadn’t heard this lullaby in years and this morning, with Max soundly sleeping in the back seat of my SUV,  I felt like Paul Simon was singing just for him. I mean, the lyrics are so perfect,
Little sleepy boy
Do you know what time it is?
Well the hour of your bedtime's
Long been past

And though I know you're fighting it
I can tell when you rub your eyes
You're fading fast
Fading fast
Well I sang it once
Then I sang it twice
I'm going to sing it three times more
I'm going to stay 'til your resistance
Is overcome

I think this song just helped me remember what’s really important in my life. My family, my baby. Who cares about the dishwasher.