Let’s say life is like a boxing match, and last week nearly TKO’ed me. Actually, it felt more like a cage match from which I couldn’t escape – so I clung to the sides like Spider-Man and waited for the bell.
Things started out just fine, albeit a little more hectic than usual. On Friday night, we opened our home to two foster children – a toddler and a newborn. As sweet as they are, these situations are always accompanied by crazy emotions. But we were taking it all in stride until …
Here are the week’s jabs and crosses (speedbag style, though I could surely write a book on each one):
- The Girl had Flu B.
- The toddler REALLY wanted to play with a dead fly while waiting at the optometrist’s office, and Wonder Boy REALLY wanted to tell me about it in excruciating detail.
- I got berated by an off-duty trooper for leaving kids “unattended” even though my 15yo was in charge.
- We had to buy prophylactic Tamiflu for everyone in the family at over $200. EACH.
- We received a “cease and desist” text from our POA regarding fence work because someone complained (to the POA, rather than me, the neighbor).
- Our water bill is 3 times as much as usual due to, we think, a couple of toilets “running” constantly.
- I fell on campus and sprained my ankle (still limping 5 days later).
- All this while having A. TODDLER. AND. A. NEWBORN. in the house.
Okay, last week, you win. I spent a lot of time with my foot propped up while feeding a baby and breaking my own Rule #1 (Don’t beat yourself up). But, then, last night, a little of the good stuff:
The Girl: Mom, you’re good. You take care of us. And there’s a lot of us. You’re good.
Last week may have knocked me down (literally), but I’m not out. That’s right, Rule #3 says hold on to the good stuff. I’ve got to remember this one. And to watch where I’m walking.