Now is the moment. I have a choice right now--drown or keep kicking. I think I need to write through it.
So I woke up this morning feeling like a workhorse. I have been feeling like that every day this week. Wake up. Hit the gym. Come home, clean kitchen, make breakfast, rush around getting shirts, pants, socks, shoes on all the right people, take husband to work, and thunk. Wall. Big, fat wall of what the heck are we going to do today. Then, lunch, naptime, shower (usually at 2:00), go get George, make dinner in a cluttered, dirty kitchen, kids to bed, sit on the couch exhausted and probably alone, go to bed a half hour too late. Start over.
Today was a day I was looking forward to, if only a little, because William had a therapy session scheduled for this morning. With Nora gone, we were finally going to have a session with 100% focus on William, no interruptions.
She canceled five minutes ago. Sick kid.
Of course I understand that. That stuff happens. In fact, it happened to no one this winter more than me. But I'm really, really disappointed. Right now, I can choose to cry and hit pillows because of how much I hate my life. Or I can say, "agggh! Crap! Now what's Plan B?" and come up with something kind of special to do today, like go to a museum or skip town and visit a friend we haven't seen in a while.
I know the right choice. But I really, really, really, really, really want to cry.
Okay, Maura, let's do this. There's plenty we can do today. There's a free museum in Indy. You can check out the rates at the zoo there, too. That would be a wonderful time, and maybe K would like to come with. You can go visit family friends in the next city over. And tonight, there's a big event for the women on campus. You've been looking forward to that girls' night since the invite came.
Just think of Tom Hanks yelling at poor Bitty Schram. There's no crying in baseball! No crying today, Maura. You can cry later. You're a busy girl today. No time to feel sorry for yourself.
Swim, baby.
I love that line in that movie. I'm always saying it in my own head.
ReplyDeleteBut that aside. I'm SO proud of you. It's hard to do what you're doing right now. GO YOU!
If you go to the zoo more than twice with a family of two adults and two kids ages 2-12 with admission and parking it's cheaper to buy the membership and then you can have a place to go whenever you feel like you need an outing. Whiteriver gardens can be fun too. The Indianapolis Arts Center ArtsPark is free too - not as much to see but still worth a visit.
ReplyDeleteThanks, guys. Lisa, I truly appreciate your words. Love you, friend.
ReplyDeleteAnd Dorothy, thank you so much for that awesome chunk of info. I'm definitely going to be looking into those things. :)
We ended up going to the library. I met a bunch of other moms, too (there was a story time letting out around the time we got there, so lots of moms and kids just hung around). Apparently some of them are going to the same dinner tonight that I am, so yay.
Mission accomplished.
Maura, I'm so thrilled to see that you've found a great niche. So many will be blessed by your courage and candor.It's okay to cry, be disappointed, get angry etc...but you have found the real key- just keep swimming! It's nice seeing you! :)
ReplyDeleteMaura, can I ask what your son is in therapy for? My daughter gets PT and OT weekly, so just curious. -Ashley
ReplyDelete