My fluffy little alarm clocks (Teddy and Stewie, my Yorkies) went off at 7:00 am, their usual time to start their demands for the day. Usually, I say "No!" to them, "Go to sleep!", and they'll curl back into position with one eye carefully watching for the slightest movement from me.
Today was different, though. I had to get up. I love to lie in bed for an extra 30 minutes before I face the day. I had an appointment at 9:00 that was 45 minutes away, so I had to get moving.
I woke up agitated from a comment my husband made to me the night before. (I had tried to ignore it and not respond.) As I prepared breakfast for the boys (how I refer to the dogs), Stewie stayed on the couch and refused to eat. Great. He always eats. Now I would worry about him while I was gone. He had been very whiny the day before, so I wondered what was wrong. No time to deal with it right now. I had an appointment to keep.
I got in my car and the "low tire pressure" light was on - again. My left front tire continuously pleaded for more and more air the past few months. Should I stop and get air before my 45 minute drive? I knew I had to deal with the tire and risk being late for my appointment.
On my way back from my appointment, my brother called to ask if I would pick up his prescription for him. My brother, Craig, recently moved to Florida. When I was 16, my father left my mother and took my brother with him. I never lived close to Craig since, so I really enjoy having him nearby. He is handicapped and unable to drive, and I try to help him as much as I can. Even so, I became frustrated at one more item to add to my list of "to dos".
When I got home, Stewie didn't run to see me. He always greets me with dancing and singing. Not today, though. He still whined and wouldn't eat his breakfast, and so I decided to take him to the vet. Just what I needed today - a trip to the vet that would cost me another two hours (not to mention the financial expense.) My concern for Stewie's health, though, would take precedence. Little dogs can deteriorate very quickly once they stop eating or have any kind of illness.
There was a message from Rick on the home phone. He was bright and cheerful, as usual, asking me to do a favor for him. Not a word about his comment to me. I looked at the list of other things Rick had asked me to do, and my frustrations with the day began to mount.
As much as I hate to admit it, I am not as spontaneous as I'd like to think I am. I like to know my schedule. First, though, I prefer my quiet morning with plenty of time to talk to God. I knew that part of my anxiety this day was that I had not gotten up early enough to do that.
I began to focus on all the things I do for my husband and other people and became overwhelmed with my lack of time for myself. All I wanted to do was sit and write and talk to God. There would be none of that today. In fact, I hadn't had many of those days in a while. I don't even work full-time! How do working wives and mothers ever get it all done?
Suddenly, I wanted to run off, by myself. I wanted to live alone and only worry about me. then I realized that this was about the aggravation I felt towards my husband over a few words that hurt my feelings. (There may have been a few extra hormones also stirring up the pot.) Plus, I hadn't had a chance to discuss it with God. (He's always quick to point out the good in Rick and take my focus off the bad. He would have kept me from my selfish pity-party, too.)
I am constantly amazed at how a simple word can set my mood for the day when I'm unprepared to fight it off (by missing my time with God). I believe most problems in marriage start with silly little words that we try to brush off and never deal with. They accumulate into a dirty pile that quickly turns into a mountain of frustration. When that mountain seems unsurpassable, it can become a fleshly reason for many to contemplate divorce. And it all started with a simple word.
It still astounds me that I can have an incredible marriage, yet through the course of one rough day, one misspoken word, even think about tossing it aside for a different life. I may allow some silly little words to sit in a pile for a few hours or even a day, but I've finally learned how important it is to promptly sweep up the pile before it grows. That means I would need to discuss this with my husband. I should have done that in the first place. I may have avoided feeling miserable about a day that wasn't so bad.