He looked so dapper on Monday as my Mom stacked his round body, wrapped his scarf, and placed a black hat atop his head. While I peeled wet socks from little feet to make lunch, my Mom stayed outside and built her first snowman of the season. (You'd never guess we lived in the mountains, we've had such little snow this winter.)
Doesn't it make you smile that my Mom is perfectly happy building a snowman all by herself? I wish we'd taken a picture. He was so put-together. Kind of like you and me when we get a shower before children wake. We're dressed, hair done, ready to start the day.
Well, this is how he looked today.
Can you relate?
My Mom went out this morning to put his hat back on, but when she did, his head fell off! Oh the metaphor. I am running with it.
I feel like this so often at the end of the day.
I'm trying to smile but my smile is forced, crooked. My posture is droopy, I'm rolling my eyes at this and that, one arm hangs down, limp. I am a tired, saggy mess. And sometimes, with one last burden - one final event - like my boys finding jelly hearts on the highest kitchen shelf and pulling down scissors to snip the bag (be still my heart), Eliza and Ali bickering over something silly that turns into a kicking and hitting fight, a urine puddle in the middle of the boys' carpet because they took of their diapers, again. One last proverbial straw, and I lose my head.
Or worse, other heads start rolling.
Well, my Mom stuck his head back on, took this picture, then emailed it to all her kids this morning with her own analogy about the droopy snowman. I love that she gets motherhood - she totally gets it.
I'm going to take myself less seriously tonight, when I think of her snowman, and an army of mothers out there trying to hold it together.
Wishing I could lift up your hands when they hang down. xo