And that is how we ended our trip to the park today.
And the man in the parked car next to us was there for the wholeeeee thing.
I was telling Tyson (who is on a business trip for a couple weeks right now. P.S. thanks love, for this beautiful picture of Vermont to distract us from this story about me yelling at our kids!) about it over FaceTime tonight. And how I didn't realize that anyone was sitting there watching us until AFTER we were all frustrated and red in the face. I happened to look over into his car and met the guy's eyes for a brief second before he quickly looked away, pretending to be engrossed in his phone, and suddenly I was THAT mom caught in THAT moment. Part of me sank right into the ground, while simultaneously deciding if next, I'd like to be smashed under a pile of rocks, a ton of bricks, or a piano falling from the sky. But the other part of me imagined flipping him the bird just to really complete the image for him.
So I was telling Tyson all this tonight, kind of sitting in front of my phone, eating a bowl of cereal and crying about this and other things and being a general joy to talk to. And while we talked, we texted pictures back and forth of our day to each other. I texted him a picture of Everett half sliding off his bed while sound asleep, and of Isla wearing a new sunhat, and he sent me pictures of purple sunsets and old eastern churches that reminded him of our town in Virginia. And it was cathartic. And my guilt was bandaged and soothed and I was suddenly prepped to go back into our room and take on another night without him.
And I don't know what the point of writing all this here is. Other than the fact that all the beautiful pictures on Instagram were annoying me tonight, and made me want to write about how I lost it today. So, cheers.