Home on the Kansas Range: Those invites..

Those invitations I get in the mail.
The ones I would love to go too...the jewelry parties, the tupperware parties, the wine and shop nights, the baby showers, the bridal showers, the graduation parties, going away, retirement, any type of reason to celebrate invites. Ya those.

I plan to be there. I do. I open the invitation. Put it on my fridge between the food stains, kids creations in art class, grocery lists, dental appointment reminders, and the poison hotline magnet. I have every intention of going. I look forward to it. I love socializing. Celebrating. Interacting. I'm out-going that way. I will even purchase a gift for it, in most cases.

And the day arrives. Much like today. I wake up thinking about what this day entails, tentatively plan how it might go, and get after it. And then the first child wakes up. Dragging her blankie. In her panties, and her little bum crack peeking over the top. In all her squishy cuteness, she opens her mouth with the first words of the day being, "whhhaaaaaaa....."
And I clench my jaw a bit, getting a glimpse of what my day with her is going to most likely be like...

I shush her whining to avoid waking the others, by getting her some juice and turning on her favorite cartoons and sitting a minute. But it's too late...big sister comes downstairs in her robe, sleep still in her eyes, hair across her face....pointing her finger at little sis, she mutters something about "sheeeeee woke me up eeeeeaaaaarrrrlllly....uuuugh."
And my jaw tightens a little more-knowing this child didn't get her sleep she NEEDS each night. And this could teeter either way as to the behaviors that may erupt from her freckled-face being.

And I make my way downstairs to check on little brother. I hear him moaning and groaning like a bear cub just coming out of hibernation. He is stimming...by the rhythm of his moaning, I can tell he his banging his head up and down, trying to self-soothe. In and out of sleep. I'm praying he hasn't been doing this all night. I whisper to him to snap him out of his stupor...he sits up quickly, rubs his little eyes and looks at me. He crawls out of his bed tent and I say "good morning! Let's go potty then we will go eat..." And you would think I told him he was getting his teeth pulled...he crumbles in one place...I mean melts to the floor in one little blob...moaning "nooooooo, nooooo"...in his gruff little whiny voice. Oh boy, so I'm 3/3 today with grumpy children.
Yay!

I say few quick prayers and prepare breakfast. Well, my first observations were spot on and the whining, grumpy, over-tired, entitled behaviors continued...all the way to church, through church, and post-church. All the way to the park. Lunch, and the quick walk home because of the melt-downs.

And it's at that point, I call it. We will not make the shower. The party. The celebration. The social gathering. We just can't.
It would be too much for my little family to handle. And one step closer to this mama losing her cool. And there is still a lot of daylight left.

So I turn down the invite again. Yet, put another stamp on that gift I was hoping to hand deliver, but will utilize the mailman to make the delivery instead, UGH....again. It seem to be a theme at this point in my life. I have to make the call. What is best for my family. And that means choosing them over parties...most of the time. For now. As much as I dislike having to make that call. It is nothing personal, please know. When I RSVP I'll be there and then I have to make a last minute decision to bail. I apologize ahead of time. I truly do want to be there. So don't stop including me. Don't stop inviting me. In fact, just knowing I'm wanted there, somedays is the boost I need to keep moving, functioning, and trying. To not feel forgotten or given up on.

So here is my apology. I'll be there, someday. To celebrate something. I will! I promise. Just at this point in my days, the odds of me being there are lesser. But I'll be back. Don't count me out yet.