Herein lies my completely chaotic postings about the delights and delirium of family living: Steve, Sarahbeth, and our three little Spazettes. I write about anything that spills out of my brain, so it's not always that interesting. Also note: If you require complete sentences from your authors, this isn't the blog for you. If you're still here after all the disclaimers, welcome to our little section of the world. It's a great place to live and be.
It hit me hard and fast. So fast, in fact, that I wonder if I'm fighting some virus. Simone is sick, Steve said a lot of classmates are out in his program, so it makes sense that I might be.
Last night, I collapsed into bed and said to Steve, "Why am I so tired?"
Steve: "Maybe because we've moved every 3 days and you've had the bulk of the duties every time?"
Steve's current schedule means he's gone every day until after the kids go to bed. Normally, I'd catch my breath on weekends, but he spent the entire Saturday and then Sunday afternoon and evening (until 3AM) on a group project. He came late to the Aquarium overnight and then had to leave when we got home. So every move in and out of a place fell on me, while he could only offer emotional support via phone.
Andrea today: "How are you not insane right now?"
Me: "Truthfully? I'm a lot more borderline than I was before last Friday."
Moving around all summer, being on the road -- that was no big deal to me. It was more energizing than exhausting, and even the instability didn't seem that rattling. We knew where we were staying and when.
But now, being in limbo but still maintaining our Regular Life -- well, I'm not as big of a fan. I spent about an hour hunting down lunch sacks in the storage unit last week. We're starting to need our fall clothes that are packed away. Blah blah blah.
Andrea reminded me that I never really got to recuperate after our summer
before jumping into things, and I was grateful for that reminder. She's
right. We haven't.
We have nothing on our agenda tomorrow. No co-op, no play-dates,
no field trips. None of those First World distractions to what I really
want to do tomorrow: Not leave the house. Not leave my pajamas. In an
ideal world, I wouldn't even leave bed. But I have a feeling my
children will need me once or twice.
Tomorrow will be about eating leftovers off paper plates.
Exorbitant amounts of television and Kinect and anything else the kids
can do without my intervention.
Tomorrow will not be about being Super Mom. It will be about survival -- and having the lowest possible standards I've ever had. :)