On Saturday morning William threw up at a neighborhood birthday party within two minutes of entering the home. With a red face and my tail between my legs, I walked him back home.
Since then I've been on edge. Snapping at the kids and at Brian for nothing at all. But I didn't realize it until last night.
Do you ever feel like you just want to break down and cry but you have absolutely no reason to?
Do you ever feel that you are so exhausted you might collapse even though you got plenty of sleep the night before?
This was me the last few days.
I'm pretty sure Lucy has an ear infection. But I'm also pretty sure we won't treat it. It never bothers her all that much and they seem to go away quicker than if we were to bring her in and fill a prescription anyway.
So she was cranky and cried through our an entire family dinner. And threw all her food on the floor.
"Please get her out of here and in the bath now," I crabbed to Brian.
And he did.
I should have done the dishes while he was upstairs. Or at least emptied the dishwasher. But it all seemed so overwhelming.
So instead I brought William upstairs and gave him a bath and put on his lotion and helped with his pajamas. He took a long nap that day and his mood showed it. He was so sweet and made no mention of my sour attitude.
"I'll make you deal," I said to Brian, "Wanna clean up the kitchen if I fold the laundry?"
"Sure," He said.
William came downstairs and instead of asking to watch TV or play on the computer before bed he just asked if he could draw me a picture on his Magnadoodle. But then he decided he'd rather match up the socks in my laundry basket.
After a minute of staring at the basket of clean, unfolded laundry I deserted it and went into the kitchen to find Brian standing at the sink. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged his back. Brian is one of those guys who is bigger than he looks because of his fierce dedication to the weight room and it felt good to feel so small for a little while. Feeling small gave me a reason to allow myself to feel overwhelmed even though I had no reason to feel that way.
"I feel like I want to cry," I told him, "But I have no reason to cry."
"That's OK," he said, "You can cry for no reason."
So I did. Just a little bit.
I heard William's footsteps come into the kitchen. His feet stopped for a minute, probably wondering why Mommy was holding on to Daddy's back so tightly. Then he started again and walked behind me and hugged the back of my legs.
My boys.
I knew I had been on edge ever since William threw up. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. For us all to start puking. Thinking my stomach hurt when really it didn't. Not wanting to sanitize one more room or wash one more load of laundry or make up one more bed.
It was all silly, really. Because no one else got it. It's been almost five days. Are we in the clear yet? And even if we aren't, what then? I realized I had been holding my breath. And my life. And in the process I was annoyed. Which is really silly because who am I to think we can be the exception when it comes to stomach ailments?
So I breathed. And I prayed. And He said it's all going to be OK.
Then I went back in the living room and folded all the clean laundry. And last night turned out to be a pretty good night. And today turned out to be a pretty good day.
Since then I've been on edge. Snapping at the kids and at Brian for nothing at all. But I didn't realize it until last night.
Do you ever feel like you just want to break down and cry but you have absolutely no reason to?
Do you ever feel that you are so exhausted you might collapse even though you got plenty of sleep the night before?
This was me the last few days.
I'm pretty sure Lucy has an ear infection. But I'm also pretty sure we won't treat it. It never bothers her all that much and they seem to go away quicker than if we were to bring her in and fill a prescription anyway.
So she was cranky and cried through our an entire family dinner. And threw all her food on the floor.
"Please get her out of here and in the bath now," I crabbed to Brian.
And he did.
I should have done the dishes while he was upstairs. Or at least emptied the dishwasher. But it all seemed so overwhelming.
So instead I brought William upstairs and gave him a bath and put on his lotion and helped with his pajamas. He took a long nap that day and his mood showed it. He was so sweet and made no mention of my sour attitude.
"I'll make you deal," I said to Brian, "Wanna clean up the kitchen if I fold the laundry?"
"Sure," He said.
William came downstairs and instead of asking to watch TV or play on the computer before bed he just asked if he could draw me a picture on his Magnadoodle. But then he decided he'd rather match up the socks in my laundry basket.
After a minute of staring at the basket of clean, unfolded laundry I deserted it and went into the kitchen to find Brian standing at the sink. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged his back. Brian is one of those guys who is bigger than he looks because of his fierce dedication to the weight room and it felt good to feel so small for a little while. Feeling small gave me a reason to allow myself to feel overwhelmed even though I had no reason to feel that way.
"I feel like I want to cry," I told him, "But I have no reason to cry."
"That's OK," he said, "You can cry for no reason."
So I did. Just a little bit.
I heard William's footsteps come into the kitchen. His feet stopped for a minute, probably wondering why Mommy was holding on to Daddy's back so tightly. Then he started again and walked behind me and hugged the back of my legs.
My boys.
I knew I had been on edge ever since William threw up. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. For us all to start puking. Thinking my stomach hurt when really it didn't. Not wanting to sanitize one more room or wash one more load of laundry or make up one more bed.
It was all silly, really. Because no one else got it. It's been almost five days. Are we in the clear yet? And even if we aren't, what then? I realized I had been holding my breath. And my life. And in the process I was annoyed. Which is really silly because who am I to think we can be the exception when it comes to stomach ailments?
So I breathed. And I prayed. And He said it's all going to be OK.
Then I went back in the living room and folded all the clean laundry. And last night turned out to be a pretty good night. And today turned out to be a pretty good day.
No comments:
Post a Comment