As I’m hip-deep in flipping laundry from the washer to the dryer, while folding the retrieved dryer clothing into a basket, Baby Dude comes fumbling into the laundry room, half-gallon of milk clutched in his grasp, as he stumbles closer, unable to keep hold. “HEP!” he calls to me, to “help” him.
And I do help him, as a smile breaks through on my highly stressed face as of late.
I needed that smile. I needed that little mom-like task. The stress level is mounting lately, with the house-hunt ebbing and flowing into a fricken Tsumani of Suck™ every time we think we’ve got it worked out. (Pardon me if I knock on wood at the moment.)
Seeing his baby face, holding the milk, trying to encourage me to get it for him (rather soonish), I drop what I was doing to “hep” him, because, even though it’s an interruption, it’s actually helping me, too.
I need some semblance of normalcy right now. I want to wake up and tend to the kids and do things like I normally would be doing, but instead, it’s everything movemovemove and househousehouse and packpackpack and nothing mommommom or familyfamilyfamily like it’s always been. And I feel really lost.
I have been short on patience lately.
I have raised my voice more than I care to admit.
I am not taking good care of myself during this process.
I haven’t been sleeping well.
I haven’t been consistent with exercise, thus making me feel even worse.
As a result of all this traveling and crap-eating, I’ve gained five freakin’ pounds.
Five pounds I did not need tacked on to the neverending crap associated with this move.
I haven’t felt like I’ve been getting enjoyment out of much, lately, with entirely too much dealt to me in too short of a time, and it shows, quite plainly, splayed across my turmoil-ridden face.
Meanwhile, my husband has much to do on his end at work to “clear” yet, for whatever reason, other unit priorities have been taking his much-needed time away. For instance, today, some General is here visiting, so yesterday he had to weed-eat their office, straighten what was already straightened, and today he’s busy “Yes sir”-ing and saluting and canoodling, while taking a ridiculous “class” every unit must take, despite he won’t even be here in two weeks, it’s Army-wide and when the military says “Jump” you not only should jump, you should’ve already expected they would say “jump” and have done it already, so.. yeah. There’s that right now we don’t need.
And two rambunctious toddlers who stay at home and need me, and don’t need a stressed me.
And four older, school-aged children, with Muffins for Mom in-class and Band Concerts and baseball games and field trips and many other needs that require mom perform with only her “A” game.
I guess I just need a break. I need life to stop throwing curve balls and just give me a little peace. Or a nap. A nap would be good, too.
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