That’s pretty much the state of our house these last few days. And my thoughts are like that, too. Messy.
Two nights ago my husband and I got to have a big old doozy of an argument. The content of the argument was important, so it was worth hashing out, but it got really hard and a little ugly for a few minutes there.
After we had turned the corner- the corner when I realized we were friends again, and wanted to look at each other instead of past each other- he said something. “You know, we’re fighting about this topic, but what we’re really fighting about is brain surgery. We’re both scared about brain surgery.”
And yes. In a nutshell, that is the past few days. The reality of what is coming is settling in.
And it looks like a lot of things:
It is not having patience or energy with my kids. That is not because they’re being particularly difficult. It is because we have brain surgery coming up and some part of me is constantly turning that fact over, and leaves me with low reserves for parenting.
It is seeing messes around the house and stepping over them, maybe 50 times a day. Because we have brain surgery coming up and so who cares about messes. And, again, who has the energy to do anything about it.
It is a feeling of low margins. I can cover the basics, but not much else.
I know the truth in my head, but that doesn’t stop the fluttery feeling of fear in my heart. And that is okay. And just how it will be. But it is messy and tiring along the way.
You know what was awesome? Last night I thought about today and the things I would like to get done at one particular shopping center. I realized I had three stores to go in, one being CVS to get the Monkey’s anti-seizure meds refilled. That has to happen today. But the very idea of doing that with three kids in tow just made me want to cry. I felt defeated before I even embarked. (Because three kids and three stores means a lot of “Please don’t touch that! Good job listening and obeying! We have one more store and then we’re finished! No, I’m sorry but we are not going to buy that. Just a few more minutes, guys, and then we’ll be done.” At best. But maybe worse. It just requires energy. And I don’t have much of that. Have I said that already?).
So I sent an email to my bible study that I meet with every Tuesday, asking for help. Within a few minutes I had five people write me back and offer their help. My friend Kristy will come over at 1:30 and I’ll be freeeeee to traipse around the shopping center with my own thoughts, and get things crossed off my list at my own pace.
Have you read this about having a net? I am thankful for my net.
Lastly: Chicken came home from her homeschool co-op yesterday with brine shrimp, aka “sea monkeys”. No joke. Along with extensive directions for their care (one full page, single spaced). Something about sea salt and yeast and a warm light bulb and charting their growth. I think we’re also supposed to determine their sex. (I picture myself holding a sea monkey up to the light with tweezers, squinting to see what’s between his/her legs. Even thought I’m pretty sure that’s not how it goes).
As I read all of it my eyes sort of crossed and I thought “What the crap. I have neither the energy nor the DESIRE for the energy to take care of sea monkeys.” And then you just have to laugh. Because I have sea monkeys in my house and we have brain surgery coming up. It is all just too absurd. I mean- sea monkeys. Really? Really.