On Thursday night, I was working hard February Take Twelve layout, but it just wasn't coming together. It was getting late, I was tired, fighting a cold, and a migraine, and my apartment was messy. But mostly, I was annoyed at my layout. That does not happen often. If a project doesn't come together quickly, I let it rest for a bit, walk away, try something new, and eventually I know something will click. Even when there's a deadline. Nothing was clicking. And, nothing was clicking. I eventually devolved into anger and frustration, and general poutiness.
I was home alone with Max and Sam, who quickly stepped up to the plate. Max offered to clean. And I was so grumpy, I didn't even want to accept his help. I just wanted to wallow in being upset. To which he replied, "Let me do it. I'm not completely useless. I just choose to be completely useless most of the time."
As I pouted some more, and tried to put some distance between me and my desk, I stepped outside our apartment and sat in the stairwell to get myself together. Sam came and joined me, and told me all the things I tell him when he is frustrated and overwhelmed. Like, for example, "Just do the best you can. That's all you need to do." And, "it's okay if sometimes you can;t get your work done." When he was done, he said, "Hey, you know what I did today? I gave my first pep talk!"
It's nice to know that sometimes, I can stop being the grown up, and they'll take care of me in my moment of need. (I should probably rely on that very sparingly.) And I love that they know how to use humor to diffuse the situation, that is their crazy mother.