Today I was mad.
Mad at the automatic door on my Chrysler Town & Country. Mad because it automatically opens, but refuses to stay open for more than a half-second. So there I stand out in the bitter cold watching the rickety door pop and grind to a close. I watch my boys mouth the words "stupid door" from inside the van. Words I'd normally scold them for using, but they've heard me say these words roughly twice a day for the past year and a half, so yeah, not a battle I'm willing to fight.
Today I was mad at Siri on my "smart" phone because she kept telling me to try back later. Mad because up until two months ago I had done just fine using the same dumb phone I'd had for four years. Mad because I'd come to rely on a computer-activated voice to do things for me that I could just as easily have done myself.
Today I was mad at the woman who may or may not have mistaken me for the boys' grandmother at the Children's Museum. I'm still holding out hope that maybe she was referring to my sister-in-law when she instructed Isaac to smile at the camera so mom or grandma could take a picture, but it's highly unlikely. My sister-in-law is 5'2" tall and looks young for her age. I, on the other hand, do not.
Today I was mad at my jeans. The $20 pair that was supposed to be my January and (possibly) February jeans. You know, the cheapies that were supposed to tide me over until the baby weight fell off. It's not exactly falling off, but the jeans sure are. And not because of any significant weight loss. Mainly just because they're made of that hideous stretch material and they're just...ill-fitting. I literally have to hoist them up every time I stand up. And now they're going to be my March jeans. Ugh.
Today I was mad at a sweet little old lady. Mad because she commented to Isaac how hard it is to be the oldest child when he was trying to whine his way into sitting in the shopping cart along with Tripp. Obviously she meant nothing by it. I knew that. So I pretended not to hear.
Today I was mad at the $5 flower we bought at Michael's. It fell apart in Isaac's hands within 30 seconds of pulling out of the parking lot. He felt awful. It was Addie's flower. One he was going to send up with a balloon on her birthday.
I chose not to go back to the store (you know, the van door and the ill-fitting jeans and all).
Instead, I chose to just stew for awhile and tell Siri how much she sucked.
Until we pulled up to Target.
It's there that I explained to Isaac that I wasn't mad at him. Or the van door. Or my jeans. Or little old ladies.
I'm just mad that Addie's not here.
And sad. So sad.