I am trying very hard not to ‘why me?’ right now. I am trying hard not to ask the question, “Does this happen to other people?” I am trying to remember that these are all just bumps in the road. I am, as always, trying to ‘maintain perspective.’
My back and hips are screwed up. Pretty badly. Badly enough that Tylenol 3 and 800 mg of Motrin alternated every 4 hours don’t even come near to covering the pain. Badly enough that I walk like I’m a 97 year-old in need of two hip replacements. And yes I’ve been to the doctor. I even got some spiffy x-rays. I’ve yet to hear what a good ‘plan off attack’ would be for this little setback. For that matter, I’ve yet to find out if anyone has even looked at said x-rays. And no I haven’t been to the chiropractor, thank you for suggesting it. Because the thirty other people who did didn’t give me a comprehensive enough idea of what good he could do me. (Indeed, that will likely be my next step after doctor’s appointment number 2 on Thursday).
Today has been especially bad. The girls have been especially trying. Little Miss went all exorcist on me this afternoon. It was late and she hadn’t had a nap because of a commitment I had a church that I didn’t feel I could get out of (and no, I probably had no business leaving my couch). She screamed and yelled for an hour while I calmly stuck to consequences. No really. I was calm.
Baboo 2 is also struggling today. Maybe it’s a reaction to the LM exorcist show… or the beginning of separation anxiety, or her picking up on the down in the dumper version of Mommy. Who knows.
And… my house is a mess. I’ve been on the couch for the better part of a week, after all. Since things aren’t looking to improve anytime soon, I’ve just decided to go on with business as usual today. I’ve tried to clean up. I really have. But despite the fact that I tidied last night,and I tidied this morning, my living room is a disaster area, and I don’t have it in me to even begin to tackle it again though it entirely depresses me.
Yeah. You could say I miss Husband pretty badly. You really could. Despite the fact that this is a ‘short one’ the coming home day feels so far away…. I’m tired of being independent. I’m tired of being strong. I’m ready for him to come and help again. I’m ready for his arms to collapse into.
It so could be worse. But I don’t want it to be. I don’t want to think about it being worse. I don’t want to think about anyone else’s worse. Because this is hard enough.
I just want someone to come and rescue me. I want someone to move in until I feel better and take care of the girls and the house and baby me and make me blueberry muffins and call me ‘poor dear.’
I just want to be done. With all of it.
The girls start crying right now and I try to shrink. I try to run away deep into myself and I whisper to myself over and over ‘make it stop.’
It’s just a bump in the road. It is. A week ago I was marvelling at how wonderful things were going. How great I felt. How I was feeling on top of things. And I will get back to that place at some point. I will.
But for now. For now I AM down in the dumper, just doing my best to get by minute by minute. That includes neat tricks like having cereal for dinner. Going many days between bathing my daughters. Watching the movies Cars and The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh over and over again–indeed sometimes back to back.
It includes me wondering if my toddler is really out of control when she goes all exorcist on me… feeling helpless and suspecting that I’m really botching this parenting job.
It includes wishing for the millionth time that I didn’t have to face so much of the excrement of life by myself. Yes. I have friends. Yes. They help. Yes, I’ve even called on a few of them in the last few days… But they can’t be here all the time. I am alone for most of it and that’s just the way it is.
I’m tired. And I’m down. And I hurt. And that’s that.
I’m doing my best. And I hope that in the end that’ll be enough.