September 13, 2012
The Value of Me
Day 3 of being alone in my house. I still have not turned on the radio or the tv. I am so in love with the silence. With the peace. And quiet. The last time I was alone in my home for this many uninterrupted hours was the last week of school. That was in May. It’s September. September, people! It’s been way too long. It’s been like the summer that wouldn’t end, to be honest. The big kids had only two days of school before the Hurricane hit. Then everything was shut down and it was a whole week before they returned to school. Little darling’s school had an a/c issue, so his school’s opening was postponed a week. So, Monday was twix day. I swore I would eat twix and crank up the radio and all that silly stuff. Instead, I cleaned out every cabinet I opened. Every drawer. Every closet. I can’t stop organizing. I’m in a frenzy. I washed and vacuumed my car. Caulked around my big tub. Bleached and cleaned my maggot loving garbage can outside. Organized piles of papers, paid bills, scheduled appointments…all that little shit that you just don’t do because there is no time. I went to dreaded Walmart today. I bought weird shit because I had time. In a complete stupor, I almost bought a fucking sewing machine. No, I do not sew. I was out of control.
I feel as if I’ve been reborn again. My cancer and my lupus have disappeared. I’m so reenergized. It’s exhilarating. I am actually thinking clearly. I do miss the darlings. But not as much as I’ve been missing me. I am no fool. I know I am a better mama when I get regular breaks from them. It’s just so hard in the summer. The majority of the summer was fabulous. The last few weeks took me down. I know I need to shake it up a bit next year. Figure out how to get them all out of here for a couple days here and there during the last few weeks of summer when I’m worn down. I’ve been so patient and extra loving and full of praise for them this week. I am always loving and affectionate, but just having the extra energy to give more is so meaningful. This has been a real lesson for me. I’ve always said that the best way to teach my boys self worth is to show them how much I value myself. I may need to value myself enough to have a week in Cabo at the end of the summer next year, as opposed to having cancer and lupus.
People look at me with these three little boys and constantly say, “I don’t know how you do it.” I always laugh and say I don’t know how I do it either. But the truth is that it’s exhausting. It’s physically demanding and I’m old. I’m so old that next month I will be 44 facking years old. That is almost 50. It’s shocking. And crazy. Because I mostly feel 30ish. Except when I’m picking up after the baby for the 4569th time of the day, then I feel 60. And at the end of summer, I feel 90.
While cleaning under the washer/dryer, I found one of Dave’s dirty socks. We all passed it around and touched it and smelled it like it was some sort of religious article. The irony is not lost on me. This is what we have…a fucking dirty sock.
I don’t even care, because I’m going eat my twix. On my bed. That is made. My bed is made. My floors are not sticky. My laundry basket is empty. My supper is already cooked. I’m drinking tea. And reading a magazine. Tonight when I get in bed, my bed will be all tight. I will slip in without disturbing it too much. I might stack some books on my nightstand. If you’d like to send Elle Décor to come take a picture, that would be fine.
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