Yeah. Sorry in advance. I don’t really have any funny anecdotes or semi-clever metaphors or beefs with the New York Times or hopeful quotes or songs. I wish I did.
This week has been: well, I think I can safely say that it’s the hardest week I’ve ever had as a mother. Darcy went out of town on his birthday, Sunday, leaving me with two sick kids not allowed to go to pre-school. Sometimes motherhood feels like a never-ending endurance test, like a marathon of Amazing Race episodes without travel.
This week I’ve dealt with:
- Two sick, cranky three year olds from 7:00 AM – 11:00 PM by myself, complete with tantrums, doctor appointments, refusals to sleep, coughing, high temperatures, trying to get them to drink and eat and get well. The worrying, the exhaustion, the frustration has been intense.
- A gang of raucous raccoons tearing up our lawn, kicking and chewing our soccer ball and ripping apart our goal at 3 AM. Apparently they HATE soccer. Twice they did this, waking me up and completing their ruckus by running across our roof, freaking me out. WTF?
- My son vomiting all over the twins’ bedroom. Poor little guy
- The topper: my daughter about an hour ago choked on a pita chip and started turning bright purple. She could not speak or cough. I had to give her the Heimlich maneuver twice, before the second attempt finally forced the chip out of her windpipe. She’s OK, Thank God. It was super scary. Poor little girl
- I’m not quite over the pneumonia, and am weak and dampened.
I feel so scared and tired and incompetent.
And I don’t want to complain because I know how lucky I am.
So this tweet, this is what I’m clinging to:
Soccer Ball damage. Freakin’ raccoons.