Monday, August 24, 2009

Moments of Frustration

Have you ever had something so frustrating happen that you had to just sit down, distance yourself from the situation, and force yourself to relax? I had one of those moments the other day, and it was entirely my fault.

I was watering the plants. An innocent enough chore, it would seem. I have a cute little pink watering can that Devin's mom got for me, and I fill it up, take it in to my plants, and give them all a nice little drink. I think that's how most people probably water their (indoor) plants. I have one plant that wasn't doing too well, it's really tall, and the bottom leaves had started turning a little brown, so I was pulling the ugly, dead ones off, and of course, I had set down the watering can to do so. At Hallie's grabbable level. I could hear myself thinking, "This pretty pink can is full of water. Hallie doesn't necessarily know that. She'll probably try to grab it." I continued gathering leaves. Hallie came over to investigate, and when she didn't immediately grab the can, of course, I relaxed. Then she grabbed the can and made a small puddle on the table. I took the can from her, put it back down, and went to get some paper towels. I wiped up her small puddle, and thought, I really shouldn't be leaving this pretty pink grabbable can at her level, especially when I'm going in the other room to throw these paper towels away. I left it there. I walked to the kitchen, threw the paper towels away, and came back to finish watering the first plant. Hallie had, thoughtfully, waited for me to return before she grabbed the watering can again and poured what really was this time more of a Lake Michigan all over the table, couch, and floor. I took the can from her, perhaps a bit more forcefully this time, and put it on a slightly higher shelf, one that I knew she could also reach, and went to get a towel. I sopped up the water as best I could, and went to water my next three plants. I was watering the second one when I noticed it also had some brown, dead leaves. I put the pretty pink can back in its utterly grabbable spot on this slightly higher horizontal surface, and started picking at those leaves. Hallie watched me for a moment, and I heard myself think, "You're being really stupid. The can is still where she could grab it." She didn't immediately grab it, and I relaxed. She grabbed the can and now I had the Pacific Ocean in the middle of our family room. I went into the kitchen to grab another towel, and I'm telling the truth here: I threw back my head and laughed. It was probably slightly hysterical in nature, but I did manage to laugh. I also FINALLY took the can and put it out of Hallie's reach. I couldn't quite get up all the water, and that area of the family room was wet all night.

Some days, I just don't seem to learn.


  1. I don't know EXACTLY how you feel, but I know similarly how you feel. For me it's more like leaving something where the Collett's dog will be able to eat it or setting Jill near something I don't want her to be able to flop her foot into, etc. Sigh. Why do we do it even when we mentally know better? I don't know.

    I love you. I wish I were next door to mop up the water for you.

  2. Yes. I am reminded of a story with Sassy in the back seat of Mom's pickup along with a whole lot of other stuff, some of which was fragile like lamp shades.

    I got out of the car and looked in the window of the back seat at Sassy sitting on the far side of the pickup and thought I should walk around and let her out; If I open this door she is going to go right through/over all this stuff and make a mess.

    I thought well I'll open the door and tell her to "stay" and I thought "that will never work". So I opened the door and I yelled and Sassy plowed right through all that stuff and I thought, "you are such a fool."

    Almost I smile about it now and wonder if Sassy were still with us and the situation repeated; would I do any differently? :)