Do you remember that "season" when you brought a new baby home and everybody was all like Congratulations and That's so wonderful, and you couldn't help but look into those gorgeous eyes and not tear up because they were so beautiful and full of possibility.
Or perhaps you were tearing up because of the realization that you were enjoying next to none of it because nothing else seemed in order?
It might have felt that the walls were crumbling around you?
And by walls I mean the never-ending laundry.
And the floors are dirty.
And the 'fridge needs filling.
And the toilet needs to be plunged... again.
Truth be told, this is my current reality.
Not to mention the state of me.
I am not a girly girl, but finding the time for even the bare minimums has become a challenge at best.
Truth be told, showers are rare, and a thick slathering of deodorant has become an acceptable substitute.
A baseball hat has become quite a necessity. All too often I'm sleeping in the same clothing that I wore that day.
Mimi insists on being carried everywhere.
I am still the only one who can put her to nap/bed and the process takes about an hour. That's 2 hours a day lost to mindlessly creating lists in the dark of all the things I should be doing.
In the absence of speech, we've developed a routine where Mazie yells at me to tell me what she wants and doesn't want. This communication routine, although quite effective for her, is not being encouraged.
Truth be told... I'm tired of being yelled at.
And I SO get that there is a season for everything.
But that doesn't get the floors swept and mopped folks!
I can not for the life of me get into a routine that seems to even get the essentials done. We've been home a month now, and I can not fathom how to make this home run effectively.
Truth be told, I haven't a flipping CLUE how to get it all done!
If Mimi was a newborn, this 'season' would expectantly last months. I'm not sure why I am not allowing myself this same time. It feels like a month into coming home, and I should at least be getting somewhat on track again.
It feels like I'm off tract.
Far off tract.
If truth be told.
|Little Miss Sunshine proclaiming her anger at getting her photo taken.|