The first time was in Arizona. My sister, friend and former brother-in–law all went camping for a week. It was a great vacation. We would find something touristy to do, drive there and then find a campground at night. The next day we would drive somewhere else and find a new spot. On the first full day, I decided to leave my glasses on the top of a mountain, never to be seen again. The most notable drawback to wearing my sunglasses all day on a camping trip is that sunset happens about an hour earlier. So, when we got to a campsite, I would help pitch camp, but I very quickly stopped being able to see. Anything. At All. So, I just started drinking. I figured if you can’t see anything, you might as well be drunk. Thank goodness, I’m not blind. The funniest part was the day we went to Carlsbad Caverns. I can only imagine what people thought, as they saw me walking through a cave with sunglasses on. I hear it was beautiful. To me, it was just dark shapes.
Another time, I went to New Orleans for a three-day concert. For those of you who have never been to New Orleans, first of all, what are you doing? And, secondly, there tends to be some drinking involved. The first night we were there, we met some friends and went out to the bars. A good time was had by all, and a very good time was had by me. The next morning when I woke up, my glasses literally disintegrated in my hands. ON go the sunglasses. During the day, of course, it was fine but at night not so much. I had friends walk with me to the bathroom, or anywhere else for that matter, so that I was capable of finding our seats on the return trip. On the final night of the show, during the lead act (Iggy Pop), I just laid down and closed my eyes. What the hell right, I couldn’t see anyway.
So, what does any of this have to do with the theme of my blog — being a stay at home parent? Well, it’s currently 8 p.m., and every single light is on in my house. This afternoon, while wrestling on the floor with the boys, I took a foot to the face and, snap, there went my glasses. On go the sunglasses. Proof that everything we do in this life, prepares us for what we do next. Right before the kick to the face, I had been telling the boys to calm down and stopped playing so rough. Clearly, I would have been better served by straight taking a break and making everyone breath for a moment.
In the past, when my glasses had broken, I dealt with it stride. Not so much this time. I blew up! I yelled at Glenn, called him names and pushed him away from me. I stormed outside and took some me time. After all, (as I tell the boys) it’s ok to be upset, it’s ok to be mad, but if you’re going to act like an asshole, you need to leave the room.
It was an over-reaction only a three year old could appreciate. What has always shocked me about these moments is the zero-to-sixty time. One moment, you are a completely rational person. Sixty seconds later, you’re irrationally yelling at a three-year-old.
When I came in side, I had to apologize to Glenn. I told him it wasn’t on purpose, and it was just an accident. He thanked me, and we went about our evening. Except for the apology, it was an all-around fail. As parents you are going to fail. As a person you are going to fail. It’s never about the failures. It’s about the recoveries.
Well, I can’t see anyway. I’m going to go get a drink. 
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