The Woulda Coulda Shoulda Day

The Woulda Coulda Shoulda Day
Re-discovered this sweet picture from 2003 of my siblings holding newborn Brooks, my youngest child.

This morning, I was supposed to wake up at 5:30 and go for a run – but I decided to snuggle on the couch with the puppy and watch Morning Joe.

While I was distracted with neutralizing the Keurig coffee pod anarchy in my kitchen, I forgot to brew a cup for my daughter before she caught the bus.

I should’ve remembered to put on a bra before I answered my door – but I forgot AGAIN and greeted the neighbor kids with my arms criss-crossed across my chest in a weird strait-jacket pose.

As I was dashing upstairs to put on a bra and panties, I heard the puppy, Rosie “Run Her Up”, whining and scratching at the patio door. Apparently, I had forgotten to let her back inside in the midst of the early morning coffee debacle.

In an attempt to make it up to the poor Rosie, I exclaimed, “Walk!” and clipped on her harness and leash as soon as the kids left for school.

I made it to my front porch and then remembered my utter lack of proper undergarments. I bribed, pleaded, and finally carried the puppy back into the house.

One mile into our morning 3 mile walk, I smelled something delicious coming from a house near the park and realized that my own cupboards were bare. So, we walked back home.

My mom called to ask about dates for a family birthday party. I told her I was on my way to the grocery store and explained I really, really needed to go to the grocery store. I promised to call her back from the car. I never called her back.

On my way to the grocery store, I passed by a glass vase of sand and shells near the front door and remembered that I hadn’t decorated for fall yet. I put down my keys.

After decorating for fall with apples, pears, gourds and pumpkins, I decided to switch out the pictures in my picture frames, too.

I spent an hour searching for back-to-school pictures and crying over the long-ago days when my kids would actually pose for back-to-school pictures.

With swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks, I then decided to re-organize those pictures.

I moved everything outside to the patio. After another hour of not-really organizing any of the pictures and essentially destroying all previous organizational attempts, it occurred to me that all I really wanted was an excuse to look at those sweet newborn and infant pictures and cry.

And then I stopped crying.

The sunshine kept me warm.

The puppy licked my tears.

The gentle breeze caressed my skin.

I set aside the pictures and did … nothing.

I had plans for today, a list of things to do and places to go. And, yet, none of it got done.

I would’ve chosen to ignore all of those little distraction, small kernels popping in an air popper, had any of the items on the list required immediacy.

My list was filled with too many things which could be done at another time, on another day, and maybe/hopefully by someone else.

I could’ve focused, prioritized and attacked my day all gang-buster style.

I didn’t.

Soon, the kids will be coming home.

And I won’t be all frazzled and out-of-breath exhausted.

I will be happy. I am happy.

I didn’t really do a damn thing today. And it was delightful.

My woulda coulda shoulda day turned out to be precisely what I needed.

Though now that I think about it — I should’ve at least gone to the grocery store. My kids are going to be hungry.

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