fear and patience

The best part of the day was when I brought Q into bed with me just after seven and we read "yots and yots of yiberry books". It was calm and peaceful. And cozy.

But then as the day progressed I got more and more jumpy. I was literally scared of my own shadow. Everytime I turned toward a glass door, I expected someone to be there. The dogs were feeding off my energy and reacting to every noise outside and that would then make me more nervous. Instead of telling the dogs "quiet" like I used to, I opened the door and sent them out to bark their hearts out and then welcomed them back with resounding "good dogs."

And as my anxiety levels rose, my patience seemed to vanish. I tried to keep my cool as Q poured a bowl of unbeaten eggs onto the counter while he "helped" me bake. I tried to keep my cool as he splashed water out of the sink while he "helped" me wash dishes. I tried to keep my cool while he repeatedly took his road apart and brought me pieces to fix. I tried to keep my cool as we made Jeremy a Valentine's Day card and he accidently knocked the pail of crayons on the floor.

And all along, I kept looking over my shoulder.