Me (to self, while driving family back from Zion National Park): Hmmm. I bet it's getting kind of windy in the back seat. I think I'll roll up Soph's window.
Soph: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! Ow! OW!! OW!! EEEEEEEEEE!!
E: You just totally rolled up Soph's arm in the window.
Me: (reaching around to back seat with one arm--rubbing Soph's right wrist and forearm with one hand and steering with the other): Oh shit. Oh sweetie. Mommy's so sorry. That was an accident. I didn't know you had your arm out the window. Didn't I tell you not to put your arm out the window? I'm so sorry baby.
E: Jesus Boo!
Me: Don't you give me shit. I'm having a really hard day. I started my period. My Granny died. I'm doing the best I can.
E (patting me on the leg): I'm sorry baby. Are you doing ok?
Soph: A period is a kind of letter that's just a dot. Did you write a letter mommy?
Me: No honey. Ladies say they're having their period when they're menstruating.
E: Or they say they're getting a visit from Aunt Flow.
Me (glaring at E out of the corner of my eye): Or they say, "I'm bleeding out of my vagina." In yoga they say "moon time."
E: What--is there a note on the bulletin board that says, "Don't wear white sweats during your moon time"?
Me: No dummy. You're not supposed to do inversions when your having your period, so they say, "Don't do this pose if it's your moon time."
E: Why do they say that?
Me: Because your period happens at the same time of the moon cycle every month.
E: Kind of like a werewolf.
Me: No. Nothing at all like a werewolf.
E (not picking up on the reckoning that is coming post haste. I mean, really, really clueless): Yes it is! Awesome. It's like, the same time of the moon--just like a werewolf! Plus first you're normal, then you're really mean and... (Voice fades out as he looks over and sees his death in my eyes.)
Me (gritting my teeth): It's just a natural cycle. More like the tides than like a werewolf.
E: Yes. Yes. You're right.
It's been a rough day. This morning after waking up to bloody panties I decided that a change of scenery would do us all good so I rounded up the troops (E, Soph, and Janz), packed a picnic, and headed south for Zion National Park. About 20 minutes down the road, my mom called on my cell and told me that Granny had died. The first thing I felt was guilt. I had told my dad I'd go with him to Logan this weekend, then backed out. Truth? I backed out because going would have been a huge pain in my ass. So--guilt first. Then sadness. I thought about heading back to Cedar, but decided not to, but to try and keep Granny in my heart as much as possible during our day trip.
We had a nice little walk, a nice lunch, and a great visit with our friend who LIVES in the park (she and her husband are rangers). It was one of those days when you feel sad, then laugh and feel bad because you're not supposed to be laughing, then feel sad some more, and then do something else that seems inappropriate in the face of death.
That's about it.
Today's best thing about being a mom:
Holding hands while walking down in sunny trail in one of the most beautiful places on earth
Today's worst thing about being a mom:
It SUCKS when you accidentally hurt your kid. Totally sucks. Oh. Also, we were about 20 miles out of Springdale and the last bathroom for about an hour when Soph announced that she had to poop. So I turned the car around, drove all the way back, and the first thing she said when we got out of the car at the gas station was, "Why are we here Mom? Oh look! Can we go pet the horsies?" Damn phantom poops.