And you know what? Robin's right. I don't need to be making any forward motion right now. Treading water is enough. Surviving is enough. And truthfully, even though I myself am barely holding out, the kids seem to be doing a little better. They, at least, seem to be making the tiniest forward motion. They're happy and content and pleased with their lives. They don't know that Guam sucks, that life's not fair, that their Daddy has the crapiest job imaginable and that their mama is a sorry excuse for one. They think I hung the moon even though I smell like Daisy-vom and instead of actually unloading the dishwasher, we just keep reusing those dishes all day. They're clean, and they're the EXACT number that we need because that's what we used YESTERDAY, so what's the big deal on that one? They don't care that we're about to eat breakfast for dinner (again) or that for school tomorrow they're going to be eating peanut butter and peanut butter because someone forgot to add jelly to the list. They don't even seem to remember that I blew a gasket this morning because I couldn't find Warren's left shoe (again) and yelled at them that if they kept acting like a bunch of wild animals we were never ever going to ever go anywhere ever again for the rest of their lives (again.) They don't even seem to mind that Sunday is Change the Sheets day and instead of Changing the Sheets, I laid on the couch and watched the Prom episode of Buffy during naps instead. That cover of Wild Horses by the Sunday while Buffs and Angel slow dance their lives away? Nothing says 1999 like that scene.
They DO seem to mind that I forgot to empty the roomba before I let it go as we were leaving for church and so instead of sweeping up all the cereal and crumbs and whatnot while we were gone, it just sort of pushed everything around and now the little pieces of food are sticking to their little bare feet. So I told them to put some shoes on and now they're fine.
It's going to be a good week. I can feel it. Twenty six days till my mama is here. Groceries and a menu that Ava helped write and the comfort of knowing that, compared to some people in this world, I have unlimited resources with which to feed my family, and clothe them, and wash their sticky, syrupy hair with running water, and stop their itchy throats and noses and eyes with medicine readily available. Water fun day at school for the bigs. Coffee (read: diet coke) and Bridesmaids with the awesomest (yes, awesomest is a word- check it) lady on the boat, who is abandoning us in mere days, assuming I can find a sitter for the littles.
Thursday morning. I'm taking any and all applications. Just leave a comment and a winner will be randomly selected and presented with these sweet sticky lovebugs.
|All the horror stories I've told about this guy are lies. He's perfect. He never makes a mess or poops in his diapers. Please babysit him for me.|
|This one doesn't even need words. Who wouldn't want to watch HER?|
And I can pay. I can pay very well, I just can't think of anyone to ask since school's not out yet.