Oh, I'm sorry... did I forget to mention that the Old Lady left on Wednesday for a "conference" in Chicago that lasts until Sunday? Can't imagine how that slipped my mind. It's day two of being outnumbered by the spawnage and, lemme tell you, I may not make it to the weekend.
Don't get me wrong -- I had grand plans for our time together, but my will to live kinda wisped away like gossamer as the Old Lady pulled outta the driveway. I think it has something to do with the "dude, no one's gonna show up at 6:30, like usual, to help out with the goddamn dinner/baths/bedtime routine" reality. I was all set to record some new songs, start some great art projects, go out to dinner, play board games... but this afternoon it was more like "ARR!! Finish your homework!" and "Let's just have chicken tenders tonight," and "AAAHHH!! WHY DO YOU TWO HAVE TO BE SO LOUD?!?!"
It also doesn't help that my fucking hip is still throbbing and I can't sleep when the Old Lady's not here and I have to wait until next Thursday for the results of all my goddamn lab tests, even though I got one report today that said that they may have found something in the stomach tissue biopsy that, according to some very ill-advised, half-assed innernettin' I did, states that I may not live past the end of this post.
I'm trying to be in the moment and shit but damn, the fucking moment cards that're being dealt to me, lately, suck ass.
Maybe if I re-shuffled.
2 comments:
Dude. Whenever I know I'm going to be sole caretaker of the kiddos for a while, I shift way down into crappy-mom-survival-mode. I expend as little energy as possible, just in case I need it later to break up a fight or drive to the emergency room or something.
Drop those fancy expectations of getting shit done and just downshift. If that doesn't work, ship 'em off for sleepovers this weekend.
Hang in there!
I remember vividly those days of "just getting through the next five damn minutes" and I probably spent whole entire years "just" getting through - but maybe do yourself a favor and read some old Erma Bombeck. She was quite eloquent about the frittering away of crazy time with little ones and then the awesome and sobering quiet (yes, albeit years later) of when they're gone.
Try to be good to yourself, meantime. (But not that way you're thinking. Well, if you have to...)
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