Hot Wheels Season

We've all heard of the Monday Blues. As we get back into the swing of week-day living and emerge from our two days of rest, relaxation, and family time, I think we all feel that small sense of dread. By Tuesday, we're coming to terms with the fact that the weekend is truly over and it's time to get back into our weekly routine. And by Wednesday, we're counting down the days until the weekend again.
This Monday was a bad day for me--and it really had nothing, or very little, to do with what day of the week it was.


I was awoken by Xander climbing into my bed. "The sun's out, Mommy." It was 830, a more than acceptable time for him to get up, but I had been up with the baby a few times through the night and 830 felt a lot earlier than it should have. I convinced him to climb into bed with me and turn on some cartoons. "Want to go downstairs, Mommy." I just shut my eyes and ignored the request. Maybe if I give him a few minutes to "get into" his show, he'll decide that staying up here isn't too bad, I thought. And then I heard Archer fussing.
Well there you have it. Time to get up.


Robert and I had had a bit of an argument Sunday night, and I left him in bed while I went to go read my Bible and do my nightly devotional. By the time I got back into the room, he was fast asleep, as I had expected him to be. But Monday, the fact that we went to bed on less than wonderful terms was weighing heavily on my mind.
Monday also marked one week of my new dieting plan--Weight Watchers, Zumba, as much water as I can stand, vitamins..the works. And my looming weekly weigh-in was in the forefront of my mind as well.


I slipped on my shorts, gathered the baby's things, and carried him downstairs with Xander in hot pursuit. I waded through the ocean of Hot Wheels that was my dining room floor and immediately stepped on the scale.
Up .5lbs. Lovely.


It seemed from that moment on, nothing went right. I'm not sure if it was my general bad mood, or if the boys were truly testing me, but they were both grating on my last nerve.
Archer was walking around whining. He was hungry, but had no desire to hold still long enough to eat. He'd take a couple drinks of the bottle, throw it down, walk around aimlessly whining, and repeat.
Xander was making it his very mission to say "No" to me as many times as he could in one period. I had been up barely an hour and I was more than ready to go back to bed. But as you mommies out there know, that was not an option.
I made breakfast, checked my email, cleaned up the house a bit..the basics. I went through the motions.
I thought if I could get myself through until the baby's nap time, I'd have a chance to relax and hopefully that would be enough to turn my demeanor around.


I was wrong. I was feeling so stressed out and so detached that those feelings weren't easily extinguished with one child being self-contained for an hour or two.
With Archer in bed, there were plenty of things I could've and should've been doing (cleaning up the Hot Wheels and other miscellaneous toys I had already picked up three or four times, trying to work off that extra half pound, etc.) But, I chose to be lazy and self-loathing. I decided to lay down on the couch and watch some TV.
Our couches are leather and I wanted to spread a blanket out before I laid down, but of course, Xander was finding every way he could to hinder that. He just wanted to play, but I was at my wits end.
"Let Mommy put this blanket up on the couch and THEN you can get covered up." I kept repeating. "NO!" was always the resounding answer. If I heard that word with that attitude one more time I was going to lose it. And I did hear it one more time. And I did lose it.
I yelled at him in my angriest tone. I spanked his butt. And he looked at me like I terrified him. And I felt like the biggest failure on the planet.


Yes, he was defying me. But had I been out of my own mind and my own petty troubles, I would have had plenty of patience for his playing, and his defiance would not have been prompted.
I immediately snatched him up, cuddled him, and apologized. We settled in to relax and I vowed to force myself out of this funk I was in. But, our relaxation couldn't last long. We had errands to run--things to do, places to go, people to see. And as our busy day continued, I found myself reaching my brink around every corner. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in my bed with a good book or a bad show, stuff my face with fattening food, and go to sleep for about three hours.
I didn't feel like being Mommy, Wife, Friend, Daughter--any of it. I felt like being Robin..alone. Just for a little bit. Not that I wanted to relinquish those titles at all, but I wanted to relinquish the responsibility that comes with them. If only for a while.

I went to bed that night feeling defeated, but praying for a better day ahead of me.

Tuesday I met with some ladies from church for a Bible Study. Since becoming a disciple, I've been doing follow-up studies once every week or so and this was one of them. In confiding in one of my friends about some of the struggles I was facing, she said "This is only a season of your life."

I've heard some of the members of the church say this at different times, and I always just thought "Yeah, everyone is at different stages in their lives. This is a stage. This is a time period."
But when she said it to me this time, I really thought about what that meant.


Seasons aren't just periods of time. They are distinct periods of time, marked by individual characteristics shared with none other. Each season brings new experiences that we partake of and new sights that we see.
This is a season in my life. Different than every other part.
But unlike the seasons we experience annually, this life season will never be repeated.


Imagine only getting one go at each of the four seasons. And then, imagine missing out on some of the best things that season has to offer.
Wouldn't it be so sad to have gone through your only Spring and never seen a flower in bloom? Wouldn't it be beyond disappointing to look back on your only Summer and realize you never went swimming, saw the ocean, or had a family cook-out? How about passing through your only Autumn without seeing the leaves change? And wouldn't it be a tragedy to put your only Winter behind you and never experience a snow fall?
I believe it would.


This is a season of my life that I will never again experience. And there are distinct characteristics that mark it:
Sleepless nights. Tantrums. A messy house.
Sticky kisses. Milestones. "I wub ooo"s.
Bottles. Baby food. Diapers.
Potty seats. Training wheels. New Friends.
Car seats. Boo-Boos. Favorite toys. 

Bedtime books. Mid-day cuddles. Unconditional Love.

The fact of the matter is, this is a season. And this season will be over before I know it, never to return again.
There may be difficult days. I may sometimes have to plaster on a smile and trudge on through. But the real smiles will be much more frequent. I may sometimes want to steal away to a hot shower or my comfortable bed. But, the times where I'm content to snuggle up on the couch with some Sesame Street and two little dudes will be much more frequent.
And I have to do my best to remember that.


So, in conclusion, Ladies & Gents,
It's Hot Wheels Season.
And I'm going to enjoy the weather.