Disjointed


I have so many things to do that I can’t get started on a single one.The weather was beautiful this morning; cool and dry. I almost got a hot latte instead of iced because it felt Fall-like. There are leaves on my deck. Dead ones. Fallen ones. It’s not *quite* Fall yet, trees. I’d thank you to stop junking up my deck. Elliot was coughing this morning. He’d better not get sick. My knee audibly pops now thanks to this ITB issue. Traffic blew this morning due to an accident. Everything felt weird as I drove to work. The only upside was that XM was playing an awesome slew of songs on my various stations: Def Leppard, then AC/DC and then Judas Priest.

Every night I tell myself I have to get on the elliptical. And then I do something else instead. Like read or watch something stupid on TV. Or fold clothes. I wrote a couple nights ago. In fact, two nights in a row. It feels very liberating to be writing right now. Maybe that sounds vague. It’s my only outlet since I haven’t got running. I take slight pleasure in my morning coffee. Music blaring once the kids have been dropped off. I am eagerly awaiting cold weather.

I think I gained two pounds back during my running hiatus. I want to buy more clothes. I’d rather be reading than doing work. My dogs annoy me. Isaac is going through a growth spurt and woke up at three this morning. Elliot will NOT use the potty. I will NOT make three different meals but lately, I haven’t wanted what Ash wants and Elliot won’t eat what either of us wants. I want someone to make food for me. I’d like a personal chef.

******

That was yesterday and oh, some days I feel like things are just falling apart. And then I berate myself for being so damned selfish. Isn’t it hard for everyone? I mean, I can’t possibly be the only mom who feels like the very fabric of her life is unraveling some days. Right? Anyway, we went to Outback last night and for the most part, the children behaved. And someone else cooked for me. And when we got home, Elliot said he had to go potty and even though he cried through every heartbreaking second of it, he finally managed to drop the crocs off at the pond. Thank the Lord Baby Jesus! The big breakthrough moment there being that he realized the need to go and then managed to accomplish said task. I’m SO ready to be on the road to stability with this thing. I’m ready to stop buying pull-ups AND overnight diapers (not even counting buying diapers for Isaac). Elliot’s a smart kid and I know he can get this. He just wants to fight it. He’s stubborn like his mommy and daddy…

…who argued this morning about my GD injury. Granted, I was looking for some excuse. I don’t know what to do to make it get better other than rest. But I told Ash that every time he says he’s lost another pound I want to take myself out back and end the misery. The pain is negligible when I am sitting but when I stand or walk or – god, take the stairs – it’s awful. Searing. Radiating. I have never really dealt with this kind of thing before and it’s taken its toll something fierce. After my anger and then the fact that Ash wouldn’t answer his phone (which was the lesson of, “I’ll talk to you when you’re calm”) I finally came to terms with the fact that I need to ice, take Ibuprofen, stretch, and use the elliptical. Time to get back on the horse and shut my yap; stop complaining.

I have two signs on a bulletin board behind my desk at work: “No Loafing” and “Don’t complain, just try harder.” Looks like it’s time to take my own damned advice.

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