I made the kids eggs with bbq tools this morning. Then I missed taking a shower (I think I'm on day 3 now?) to get Ivy to her dr appointment in time. So all this is a fog I'm driving in as we go and I feel like my body is driving us there but I don't know how it's doing it. But that's what we do and it gets done. Somehow we get through the appointment and groceries get bought and then the pharmacist takes me aside to whisper just how much all of it is going to cost and I don't bat an eye. In between breathing treatments the house is looking pret-ty good. I rocked out dinner. There is kind of a pathway in the laundry room and I can kind of see the kitchen sink. And this is not complaining and this is not a list of look what I can do. But it will be nice to look back, when I have a moment of doubt and feeling low, that I am a good mom and can do the hard things even in zombie mode because this is me and this is what I'm made of.
November 14, 2014
I was driving Ivy back to the doctor forty-five minutes away for her recheck (Forty-five minutes is not a big deal. It's a hassle though and can be precarious when you have to drop off and pick up your other kids at certain times. You have to allow for the driving time there, how long you'll be there, and then the driving time back.) and thinking how I felt a lot like I'd died of exhaustion and like a good mom dug myself up out of the ground and got right back to it because there's things to be done, places to be, prescriptions to be picked up and administered, and groceries and on and on. Being forced to chill out and hang in a hospital room for two days might sound like a vacation to some but it was just another set back for me. We have got to sell this house. One day, let alone two days, of dishes piling up and laundry don't even go there with the laundry.