Craptastic

Craptastic:
/krap'tastik/
nounly adjective
1. describing a situation, feeling, or day of extremely poor quality.

It's my made-up word. But it fits today.  Just yesterday, one of the blogs I contribute to posted my tips on taking care of one's self. Naturally, then, after giving advice on how to improve your quality of life, mine would take a turn for the toilet the very next day.

I don't know what happened, really. <~ That phrase right there is one I utter frequently, I know. Apparently I'm clueless as to how my life and how I respond to it, happens. I must forget to take notes, or fail to learn lessons, or something similar. Regardless, though, it's okay to have a craptastic day. I sometimes hesitate to share my struggles or frustrations because I know a well-meaning, loving, lovable, adorable, sweet, considerate person is going to say something "encouraging" at the wrong time in the wrong hormonal orbit, and I'm going to have to bite my tongue until it bleeds so I don't tell them to stuff it. No, I don't like having a craptastic day. No, I can't stand feeling craptastic. But it happens. And when it does, it's okay. Life isn't always a bowl of cherries (remember?). 

One of my new friends, and a fellow loss mom posted this link today and while I most definitely agree with the concept and point, it really made me stop and think. The Bible doesn't say, "Blessed are the rich in smiles, for they will have only good days." No. The Bible says, and we adopted this life-verse after losing Harlynn, "In this world you will have trouble." (John 16:33, emphasis mine.)

So when I couldn't get a break or any privacy, or a single shred of alone time today, I nearly lost my sanity. When I stubbed my toes for the eight-bazillionth time while trying to make the bed and having to climb on a pile of my husband's clothes to do it, I wanted to cuss out loud. When I looked around my kitchen and saw mess after mess after mess, I wanted to pull out my hair. When trying to make plans for Little Miss' birthday next month, and nothing was going the way I wanted, I couldn't understand why. When I realized our internet filter was no longer working and up popped a most disturbing image, I wanted to curse all the evil in the world for being so readily accessible. When I looked around my home and saw the chaos and disorder I was trying to muddle through, I started crying. Then I ate part of a tub of frosting. Then I felt like a sea cow. My day continued to be craptastic.

And ya know what? I didn't even follow my own advice. I was tired and crabby when I woke up this morning, so I didn't pray about my day. When one thing went wrong, I just got pissy and expected everything else to go wrong as well. I pouted and cried. And while it's okay to do that sometimes (and I have license to), I realized it wasn't the day I could have had. I missed one vital step, a piece of my own advice, and my whole day went down the dumper. Just like that.

I started being okay with small victories instead of big successes in my day. I cleaned up the clutter in my home. I did laundry. I cleaned the kitchen. I got hugs and snuggles from Little Miss, who was the same one who wouldn't let me have a moment alone earlier. I hugged her tighter. I split a chocolate milkshake with her. I single-handedly fixed our internet filter problem. Then I praised God for getting this sulking, upset, hormonal, grieving, pile of mess through another day. 

Now it's time to end on a good note. Tomorrow's another day. And there's still time for a dance party tonight.