I have started writing this blog several times in my head....but then I don't type it out.
I started typing and I back up and delete it. Then I get up and walk away.
I come back.
I've not said much lately as far as our usual transparency of "how are you" and "how are things going." Sometimes people assume no news is good news and others know silence usually means things are chaoitic and too insane to sit back and type a blog.
The last month has been filled with more medical appointments than I have even kept a count of. Most weeks, each day has been consumed with a pre-op, post-op, surgery day, check up day, x-ray day, hospital infusion day, or something to occupy the twenty four hours in our days.
For some reason, the oldest child dislikes school. Each morning begins with a fight of finding the right blue jeans and underwear combination that fits to his liking. Then his anxiety soars at drop off time because he wants you to walk him to the door. The youngest, age 4, has had to miss about as many days of preschool as he has been able to attend these first few weeks becuase of our many appointments and obligations. So now he clings at my leg and doesn't want to let go for school most days too. The oldest has begged for weeks for me to homeschool him.
The kids don't want stay in a room in our home if an adult is not with them. The won't go to the bathroom alone, and I can't go to the bathroom alone either, most of the time. They don't want to go to sleep in their bed, unless you lay down and go to sleep with them. They wake up. They run to find you. Elbows and knees proceed to jab and poke for an uncomfortable night of restless sleep. One pees on the bed.
Laundry to do. Another night. Another wake up. Same story. Laundry. Coffee. Cary on. Repeat.
John has been in alot of pain. For some reason the oddness of the last few weeks has prompted him to not take meds regularly. So, Monday he played golf....best game ever. Then Tuesday through Friday he was unable to get out of bed. Friday evening he wanted to get out and we rode to town. He asked two or three times for the kids to be quiet. They didn't quite down enough to his liking. He said, "I've had enough" and leaped from the car.
The kids were upset but took it in stride. I pulled off the road but he refused to get back in the car. After walking about .4 mile, an officer friend of John's picked him up and took him home. John threw the contents of his pockets on the floor and went to rest in quiet and calm down.
Two days prior, as we were getting ready to go to get his stiches out, I reminded him to hurry and put his pants on. He was already wearing his shoes. So I reminded him where his bottoms were. I get the kids out the door and turn back to turn off the lights, like moms do. When I got outside to unlock the car for them, there John was standing beside the car in his underwear. He was ready to go, so he said. Yet, oblivious to the fact he wasn't dressed. Sigh. Turn around, go back. Buckle kids. Go to school. Drive 4 hours to doctor. Come home. Repeat.
I suppose I should be stressed out beyond belief, but I'm not. I wish I could get more done. I wish I had more time for me. I wish my house stayed cleaner and neater and long for the day when the kids will help pick up more than they throw down. However, in the meantime, the stress won't make it better. Worry and anxity won't create a better situation. I have to be as calm as I can. I have to carry on. I have to breathe. I have to pray.