Sometimes

Sometimes your weekend looks nothing like you hoped.

Sometimes your week ended up being way more than you could handle.

Maybe by Friday afternoon, you were ready to crawl to a corner and assume the fetal position.

Maybe you are a big, fat feelings sponge. Maybe when you are in an emotionally charged environment, you soak it all in and leave 10 pounds heavier. Even if the emotions have nothing to do with you, really.

Sometimes you find out that you are having overnight company the day they are coming. Sometimes they are two people who are strangers to you and you literally cry because you know you are going to have to drum up some sort of conversation. Oh, the awkward. Sometimes you wish you were an extrovert. But, you're not. So, you awkward it up and try to make up for it with queso and brownies.

Sometimes, by the end of the week you are so tired you don't think you can go another day. But, then you do, because, well, you have to. And you think to yourself, "Next weekend I'll really have time to rest." Deep in your bones you know you are telling yourself a really good joke.

Sometimes you spend money you don't have on dinner out with friends because adult conversation is a good thing every once in a while.

Sometimes you go in the bathroom right after work and stay a long time even when you don't need to. Because, privacy. (I learned this trick from my Dad!)

Maybe Friday night you don't sleep at all because your child with the sensitive stomach is up all night puking. And she wants you right there tickling her back while she pukes. You think to yourself, "How is it possible that this particular child has not yet met her lifetime puking quota. She's basically been puking all her life."

But,

Sometimes you get a free ticket to see Chicago on stage. Sometimes you don't even really care what the show is because you just love live performance so much. (You also, sometimes, secretly dream of being a dancer. You might be good at telling yourself jokes...)

Sometimes you're tight on time so you show up to the football field and freak people out because you're wearing a dress and you've fixed your hair. Because you have set a low bar people pay you lots of major compliments.

Sometimes at that same football game your son has the game of his short life. You've watched him work so hard (because white boys are slow) and finally he is seeing some fruit. You cry when he throws his first touchdown pass, not because you care that he's scored a touchdown but because you know how much he cares.

Maybe when the game is over you high-tail it out of there, barely telling the kids good-bye because you've got dinner and a show. You probably roll your windows down (not too much-the hair) and sing at the top of your lungs. You're mostly excited you're not listening to the Frozen soundtrack.

Sometimes things do not go according to plan.

Sometimes it's better that way.