Sunday, November 14

playing super woman in souped-up undies

How do I even begin to describe this past week. Quite a few small, pivotal moments generously sprinkled in between rushing around, household duties, tons of I'm-so-far-behinds, eye-goobers, runny noses and other bodily excretions I won't detail here....

And the timeline for this week went as such:
  • Monday
    • girl usually has school, seems tired/overwhelmed, gets to stay home and rest
  • Tuesday
    • girl is off to school, boy seems fine, wake him up to pick up sister, he's crusty, congested, tired and feverish
    • emergency call to the mother-in-law a.k.a. Grandma (not a card I like to play often) to meet me at girl's dance to swap kids so I can take boy to quickcare
    • boy has cold, pink-eye, no antibiotics, watch fever
  • Wednesday
    • girl comes in at 6 AM saying her eyes itch, now she's got pink-eye
    • tell myself it could be worse, right? Right?!
    • in need of disinfecting wipes (there's always plenty on hand when I don't need them) and diaper rash ointment for the boy whose tush is Phillies Red
    • wash the kids' bedding, blankies & lambies, wipe down toys, counters, tables, any surfaces those four grubby, eye-poking fingers may have lingered on
    • go against my better wishes of sucking it up, doing this on my own, struggling and cursing...
    • and call for help, because at this point my body feels like it wants to shut down
    • Bubby comes bearing gifts of wipes & ointments, takes loving unlimited care of the kids, I get a much-needed nap
  • Thursday
    • day 2 of quarantining inside with two crusty kids, determine sanity is a lost cause
    • try my best to get the kids to lay low and relax as neither seems too improved
    • wipe down everything again
    • pretend I'm not feeling crummy and that day 52 of my irregular cycle means nothing more than my hormones messing with my head
  • Friday
    • toss and turn through the early morning hours : I feel as though my eardrum is about to exploderate all over my bed
    • frantically text for help at 6 AM - something I am beyond finding acceptable on most occassions because my pride, ego, whatever is just too damn stubborn (and, I obviously suffer from the super-woman complex)
    • Bubby arrives within an hour and vests her interest with the kids
    • I'm trying not to burst into tears, blaming it on possibly prego, possibly non-prego whacked hormones, possibly too much I-feel-like-shitness
    • Cart myself off to Quickcare, acute otitis media, and one Dr. Hunkalot checking it all out (I do believe this would be evidence of God's sense of humor)
    • Spend four and a half hours between Quickcare, Labcorp (for prego blood serum test), prescriptions, and travel time
    • Return home, get loves from Bubby before she leaves, send the kids off for naps
    • Evening finally comes and hubby comes home
  • Saturday
    • wake early, ear still full, pain still there, run for coffee/donuts cause thems my priorities and my priorities be all messed up at this point...
    • kids are up and both are feeling much better, hooray!
    • hand better kids over to hubby for kid-duty
    • make a warm compress, cover affected ear, lay down and nap for an hour
    • contemplate prego possibilites, future decisions (names, rooms, rigging what we have, etc.)
    • wake, dress, gather kids, take them to Grandma's
    • run the Scavenger Dash with hubby for four hours through the Las Vegas strip
      • pretend the past five days never took place and that I'm not sick at all
      • push myself
        • for the race
        • for my hubby
        • for me
      • Aunt Flo comes to visit in the middle of the race. Didn't even send a note to let me know she was on her way. Nice.
    • Return home, get the kids, get food, return home again
    • Bedtime for all of us, HALLELUJAH!
  • Sunday
    • Ask for what I need and get a day of taking care of me
Several times throughout this past week, I had to argue with that stubborn Super Woman Complex and her fancy underroos. I'm convinced that once I got the hang of being a mom, of tending to someone who is completely unable to care for themselves to a certain level, that I developed this notion that I truly am Super Woman, Awesome X, or whatever superhero character fits the day and/or time. And, honestly, there are some days I have to don that not-so-flattering spandex because nobody else is my childrens' mother.

And most days, I can pull it off by myself. But there are those days or, a whole week, where I have to call in help from superheros of other leading comic books and cartoons for collaborative work on the current episode.

No matter how powerful my super-mega stubborn powers are.

Because my best role is playing Mom to my kids and I don't need fancy underwear for that.

Just the courage to ask for some me-time.