Stinging Valentine's Day...

My bathroom is absolutely spotless.  

And not just by looking at the it with the naked eye.  

It's germ free too.

Because I cleaned every surface with bleach and a toothbrush.

Here's my dirty little secret:  When I get mad, I clean.  When I get really mad, I clean with bleach.  When I get really, really mad, I clean with bleach and a toothbrush.

I put on my sweat pants with the holes and paint stains.  Clean every surface in the usual way.  And then whip out the bleach and toothbrush.  

My hands are now red and raw.  And my nose hairs have been burned off by the smell of the bleach.

But hey, I went 34 years with undiagnosed Celiac's disease.  I'll die of intestinal or maybe stomach cancer way before the bleach kills me.  

Honestly, the bathroom has had it coming for weeks.  It smelled like boy.  

Calm down.  I love Chris.

But boys smell.  

And there are days when I feel like Monica and I just want to cry, "I have to live with a boy!"

Thankfully, bleach kills all smell of boy.  And whatever causes the smell.  

Of course, I realize you could care less (and are probably grossed out) about my bathroom and the boy smell.  What you want to know is what caused me to get really, really mad.

Last week, I did what most moms do.  I bought a few Valentine's gifts for Pumpkin.  Nothing fancy.  Some dollar bin shape foam stickers.  A big girl utensil set with hearts on them.  And a precious little pink striped top and grey leggings.  The shirt has a little grey rosette.  Swoon.

Then last night, I wrapped them all and tied the stack with a great big red bow.  I cut up some strawberries, pulled my casual china tea pot and two tea cups down from the top of the cabinets, made some cherry limeade kool aid and set the table with a white place mats for breakfast.  

Breakfast was some of her favorite fruits.  Strawberries, blueberries and bananas.  I put the bananas in the shape of a heart.  So cute.  Then I got the tea pot and tea cups out ready to have a full on tea party.  

She'll go nuts, I thought.  I am such a good mommy.  Not too much.  Just enough to make the day special.  Can't go wrong.

And yet...

See, the cause of my anger induced bleach and toothbrush attack on the bathroom was....

Myself.

I should know better than to put expectations on a day.  Have learned a million times over to let presents be about the recipient and not the giver.  And even gotten to a place in life where I am comfortable with plans changing.  Because they do anyway, so why let them bother you?

But today, I must have forgotten all those life lessons.  

Completely.

Because when the almost three year old refused to eat my breakfast of fruit and heart shaped bananas, and when she did not like the sweet little outfit I gave her, and when she had no interest in drinking some special juice out of my cherished tea cup, I was totally unprepared.

It hurt.

She hurt.  

And I was surprised.

Honestly, I didn't know being rejected by a toddler would hurt this much.  I know she's almost three.  I know she argues with me about pretty much everything.  I know she doesn't want to do whatever is it I want her to do.  And yet, that didn't help.

It stung all day long.  

Of course, it didn't help that she is almost three, argues with me about everything and doesn't want to do anything I suggest or tell her to do.  

But tomorrow is another day.  A day when she goes to school.  

Oh blessed day.

Now to forgive myself for letting it get to me and forgetting all those lessons I've spent thirty-something years learning.