Oh, hello there, friend. How have you been?
How are you doing?
What’s new with you?
Same old, same old.
I often feel like I’m living the life of a celebrity. A jet-setting, paparazzi-hounded, silver-spoon-in-my-mouth rock star who spends my days doing exotic and exciting things, all while getting pampered and reminded how vital I am to society on the whole.
Oh wait. Back that up and reverse it. I’m so bored and tired that I got confused. I am a stay at home mom. None of those things applies. I need a nap. And a maid. And some mental stimulation.
The 2013-2014 school year is about to cross the finish line and everybody is throwing stuff at the velcro wall in hopes that something – anything – will stick. Let’s have a party! Let’s have a Field Day! Let’s have a concert, a recital, and double-elimination playoffs! And please bring four cans of pineapple juice, two tablecloths, a photo of your child holding a sign that says something nice about his teacher, a pair of black Adidas soccer socks, a Bat Mitzvah card, a couple of boy birthday gifts, and a white dress. And lots and lots of checks.
Meanwhile… my body is rebelling against me. It grew too many babies from scratch and I am now falling apart so I was secretly convinced that I was dying from my core. I finally broke down and went to the doctor. He said he can rebuild me, so there is hope. I was very excited to think he meant I will be like the Bionic Woman, but there may have been some kind of doctor/patient disconnect. I guess we’ll see.
And to top it all off, I haven’t even been able grip anything with my hands this past week, let alone type, because I spent three hours last Wednesday power washing my driveway with an unloved machine I borrowed from my brother-in-law, Chuck (Sister B’s husband). It had a broken wheel hub when I picked it up, and by the time I finally got it working (with the help of my friendly and helpful neighborhood stay-at-home-dad), it had two. It was bouncing around so much that all of the hoses eventually busted off and sprayed wildly around my yard. I was covered in mud and dirt and grit and whatever it was I was cleaning off the concrete. It was like actively pumping gas all morning. The job wasn’t done but at least I had cleaned the Junior/ Senior Wars “artwork” off of my driveway. My fine motor skills were collateral damage for almost a week.
In summary, I seem to have lost my mind, my core, and my texting abilities/ pincer grip. Being the supportive husband that he is, Sheepdog said that he knows a hand exercise to help me work on the latter. My doctor is fixing my body, so I guess that just leaves my sanity. And I think that’s probably overrated anyway.
Wish me luck for tomorrow…