the last day
Saturday was the worst day.
I still can’t pinpoint exactly what my problem was but I suppose contributing factors included not having any reserves left after 29 days of fasting, temperatures were hovering around 95 degrees, and Maya kept running to me with urgent statements like “Mama! Dad is out of tea bags.”
Throw in the fact that at the last minute Ali decided to spend the night elsewhere, thereby leaving me with nobody to take out my bad mood on, and I was nearly beside myself.
Normally I’d make myself feel better by assigning Maya chores my parents used to assign me when they were in a bad mood: like polishing the marble floor. This didn’t happen, however, because we don’t have marble floors. Plus my guilt about after school care is still in full swing.
So I decided to cut Maya some slack and did something completely out of character: I closed my computer and took Maya to the beach.
- We collected shells.
- We flew a kite.
- We assembled a very ugly and distorted whale out of sand.
- I didn’t roll my eyes at the exorbitant $12 beach parking fee.
- I assured a panicked Maya that it didn’t matter that her dress got wet and dirty.
- I swallowed my anxiety at her wet and dirty dress.
- I even managed not to worry about the restroom situation, despite the fact that my previous experience was still fresh in my mind.
And at the end of the afternoon, as I hiked to my car – still baking in its overpriced parking spot – with Maya clinging to me and complaining about how hot and thirsty she was? I somehow found the energy to laugh it off.
Yeah. I still can’t believe it either.
the guilt
School started yesterday. But my rejoicing at the return of Schedule, Certainty, Order, and The After School Program was tempered by this:
Maya: “Most of my friends go home right after school is over. Why can’t you pick me up then too?”
I knew this was coming and yet I was still unprepared. Because how do I explain to Maya that a 2:39 pm pick up is impossible, mainly because:
- I have this selfish need to feel productive…and picking up her clothes and toys from the floor does not make me feel productive.
- I need constant validation and work provides me with that.
- The lure of a steady paycheck isn’t exactly a deterrent.
- Putting together a 15 page cash forecast, complete with a linked amortization schedule and macros galore comes far easier to me than explaining 2nd grade math concepts like “carrying the one.”
- And most importantly: one of my biggest fears is waking up one morning, realizing that Maya is 16 and doesn’t need me anymore, and that I’m 16 years behind everyone else career-wise.
I, of course, said none of these things. Because while I am mostly clueless when it comes to my child, I am at least not insanely thoughtless. So instead I simply told Maya that “Mama has to go to work, that’s why.”
Anyway, despite my dubiously sound and somewhat selfish reasons above, one thing is 100% certain: I will feel guilty every minute of every weekday from 2:39 pm until I pick up Maya from after school care.
And that’s a fact.
waiting
And I was doing so well this Ramadan.
My headaches have been at a minimum, I haven’t even been that hungry, and I’ve been thinking of others for a change. Even better? I’ve managed to keep my complaining, my temper, and my sarcasm in check.
Until of course I came home from work and saw this:
This photo isn’t even the half of it.
But then it got worse. Because as I donned my classy yellow rubber gloves to clean up everything from an inch of crumbs on the floor to a variety of knives caked with peanut butter (not sure why someone can’t understand that peanut butter isn’t going to magically melt away in the dishwasher), I had to listen to this:
Ali: “Before you get mad, let me explain.”
Me: “There’s really no need. I just want to extend my thanks for leaving the kitchen a massive disaster area. I appreciate it.”
Ali: “Why are you mad at me? I thought I was doing you a favor.”
Me: “How on earth is leaving the kitchen that I thoroughly cleaned up and down this morning at 4 AM doing me a favor?”
Ali: “I did it so that you’d have something to do! While you waited for the sun to set.”
Me: “So let me recap: you left me the dishes as a favor. So that I’d have something to keep me busy after not just fasting all day but also getting Maya ready for school, cleaning the kitchen, going to work, and then rushing home to give Maya a bath and do some homework with her.”
Ali: “Yes.”
Initially I was just beside myself with irritation. But then I realized that if Ali hadn’t been so “considerate” I wouldn’t have anything to post today. So I guess I really should be thanking him?
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 