Anywhere But Here


It’s one of those days. One of those days where I want to be anywhere but here.

I sit at my cluttered dining room table, with cartoons blaring in the background. I gaze around and take in the view.  Toys on the living room floor peppered with goldfish crumbs everywhere. A sink full of dishes and countertops to match the disarray.  Kids still in pajamas at 2pm and I am no worse for wear. I haven’t even brushed my hair today. To top it all off I have no desire to do anything to clean us all up. Nilch. None. Zero.  Instead I’ve spent the hours trying to keep fevers downs and the kids distracted. Despite their runny noses and overly warm foreheads they still have enough energy to power a small plant.

So I do what I do daily. Look up online ideas for activities. Wrestle the toddler out of the bathroom as he loudly protest being parted from the toilet bowl. Put his brother in time out for inappropriately protecting/hoarding his toys. Dig under the couches for lost toy cars. Check the clock every 30 minutes wondering how long I still have left in the day before Dad gets home. Wonder what in the world to cook dinner. Apply the 17th suggestion I read about to approach my strong willed child and gain compliance. Try to sit and actually play with the boys. Remember to include reading a book and playing word games. Feed us all lunch and lament that we still half a day to get through creatively.

Oh dear- this day is not getting off to an exciting start. And so I start in front of these keys wishing I was anywhere but here.  Wishing I had a pocket full of cash to take them on all sorts of adventures.  Wishing I was at a hair salon getting my hair done up. Wishing for a kid free shopping spree hoping to feel glamorous. Wishing even at moments that they were older and could be taken to an activity where I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed at corralling them on my own. Then I remember they’re sick anyway and we’d be right back where we started.

Here.

So… I’ll pick myself up. Dust myself off. Drink that second cup of coffee. Push through the apathy. Wash dishes. Create a way to engage and entertain the kids… cook and eat dinner. And then start all over again tomorrow. Hoping and praying … that I can remember to stay in the moment… and enjoy being here.
 
 
 
 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

PTSD: A 6 Month Update

Image
It’s been 6 months since Alvaro’s accident. Six months since we were THISCLOSE from losing him. Six months since I have counted every day a blessing and have been more grateful than ever to have this child in my life and care. Interestingly enough, this 6-month mark is when I became aware I was suffering from PTSD. The shock of the trauma from his accident began to wear off a few weeks after it happened. Unfortunately, a whole new series of stressful and discouraging events immediately followed. This prevented me from being able to stop and breath and slow down. Simply put, I was in survival mode, dealing with one draining situation after another. Until one day I woke up and wondered how I had arrived at this place again? A place where I lacked self-care and rest. A place where I looked OK on the outside. I smiled and made jokes and told people I was hanging in there. But inside I was drained, dry, and depressed. On more than one occasion, I would admit the truth. Tha...
Read more

Skinned Knees

Image
Its midnight as I sit at my computer typing today's post. This is officially the last day of Down Syndrome Awareness Month. Six years ago I didn't know Down Syndrome Awareness Month was even a thing. And as I sit here and reflect on our 5th Down Syndrome Awareness Month I find myself grateful for skinned knees. I'm sure I sound a bit crazy right about now. What in the world does skinned knees have to do with Down Syndrome Awareness Month? For me, skinned knees means the world. It means joy and ability. It means inclusion and resilience. Let me explain. Five years ago I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. And to be frank, I was scared sh*tless. Scared about what that meant for him. Scared about what that meant for my husband & I. Scared about our future. I had no idea what our future would even look like. How I wish I could turn back time and sit down with myself and say " Honey there is no need to cry! It's going to be okay. In fact, it's going to be m...
Read more

Filled to the Brim & Overflowing

Image
I saw an interesting and enlightening demonstration once. Technically the demonstration was performed to illustrate time management and priorities but I have never forgotten it. A man stood on stage with a glass container. He filled the container with large rocks until it reached the brim. Then he added pebbles. The pebbles, being significantly smaller than the large rocks, dropped into empty spaces and gaps left among the large rocks. The container appeared full. The man then pulled out a bag of sand. He proceeded to pour sand in all the gaps and spaces left from the pebbles. Finally, we all assumed the glass was really full. But the man surprised us once again, by producing a glass of water and pouring the water into the container, until finally the container overflowed. The container was at last truly full. While this demonstration was meant to illustrate how we should manage our priorities, I think it’s an appropriate depiction of my life. Today is my 10-year Wedding An...
Read more