This could have been the day I hit rock bottom. Let’s hope so, because that would mean it starts to get better from here. I snapped at the Boss on the phone this afternoon, and I whined to anyone who would listen. (After a while, they stopped.) I fell into my chair at 4:30 and couldn’t even sleep, as much as I needed to. But I couldn’t get up, either.
I was set to stay there the rest of the night when Tammy called and invited me for dinner. The inertia in my soul wasn’t strong enough to keep me from saying yes. I dropped everything (not that I was holding anything) and slammed out into the most gorgeous afternoon we’ve had so far this year. We’ve been blessed with the best March ever, and I’ve been too sick to enjoy it.
You know what happened next. D.J. latched onto me and told me stories and showed me the pictures of his birthday party (and got mad when I laughed at the one with his face painted, because he wanted to be “cool” and not “funny”). Dakota took my hand and walked me over to the shelf and asked for a toy his mom had already told him he couldn’t have, so I tried to jolly him out of that notion (with just a little success).
And Aiden was everywhere, and into everything, except when he was sitting in his highchair stuffing his face. He’s learning some basic sign language (“more” being his favorite word). He has a sort of inflated idea about how helpful he is when David is putting latches on the drawers or folding the laundry. And he’s perfectly willing to shake his booty on command, as long as he’s in the mood.
So it was a successful diversion. If this was rock bottom, the road up out of the quarry has already started. If I needed something to make me want to force myself to start feeling better, I got it. I’m ready for better days. |