Note to self: even though the intention was good, family functions with somebody else’s family are never a good idea.
Robyn’s son was confirmed today. The girls and I went to his confirmation dinner. Ham, potatoes, jello…very Lutheran. Oh, and the obligatory family pictures in front of a blank wall. It looked like any of my own family functions. Except it wasn’t my family.
Robyn is my angel. She’s probably as close to me as my own sister. Robyn is also 10 years older than I and her kids are 20, 17 and 15. Her kids love my girls and tote them around like they live there. And they spent at least half of their time at Robyn’s house this summer. I really couldn’t have made it through all of the trauma without her. And she knows it. And she loves my girls so much. And I love her. But family functions? Awkward to say the least. It was a mistake.
In hindsight, I should have just politely declined. We’ve been invited to Thanksgiving with them too. The girls love it. They love the attention of a large family. And the baked ham smelled so much like my own family as a child. I want them to have that. But it doesn’t help the ache.
What else happened? Amelia split her lip tonight. She tripped over a box of Mr. Potato Head pieces. She’s walking now. Finally. She’ll be 15 months this week. It’s hard to believe. I love it when they start walking. But I hate it at the same time because of all the tumbles. This was at the same time that Ella was yelling at Amelia for messing up her playsilks that were tablecloths on the coffee table. Ella got sent to her room to calm down and promptly fell asleep…at 5pm. And slept an hour because I was nursing Amelia to calm her down from the split lip. And all I could do was sit there and cry because everyone was asleep. Except me.
Sleep doesn’t come easy or stay long these days. I had been taking Ambien but I’m trying to get off that and get off the Xanax. I feel Iike I’ve been on them forever. And, as nice as it is to numb things when it gets hard, I can see myself becoming dependent. I feel, well, medicated. As another note to self, do not cruise ebay AFTER taking the meds. I’m the proud owner of a Swatch watch and a new pair of clogs. How did that happen? And how random is that?
I wish I had known then what I know now. Every time I stood at the sink doing dishes, angry because I didn’t have help. Why get angry? Every time I agreed to sex because I didn’t have a good reason not to. Why not? The expensive cologne that I never wore because I was saving it for date night. Why didn’t we go out more often? So many minutes/hours/days wasted in front of the tv. The trip to Alaska that we were saving for our 10th anniversary. Why not the 5th? Why did we think we had to wait?
My goals for the week are fairly simple. And concrete as the girls and I are going to Omaha to my sister’s house a week from now.
1. Get thank you notes done. I’m just over half done. And the easy ones are done. The ones where you sign your name to the bottom of a generic “the family thanks you for your expression of sympathy” blah blah. But to the folks who did so much…that’s a bit more difficult.
2. Finish Angel Tree stuff. This is my big volunteer project for church that I’ve done for the last 3 years and I’m still doing it this year. Our church sponsors a battered women’s shelter/halfway house kind of thing. They take in women with children and they get to stay rent free for up to 2 years but most of them arrive with nothing. The point is to get them self sufficient and safe through the legal system. But there are over 200 individual gifts (most of the kids and moms get 3 or 4 gifts) to make tags for and catalog in my computer. It’s a big project but I like doing it. But it has to be done before black Friday and since I’m leaving town it has to be done this week.
I need time for myself. I can feel myself getting sick. I should nap but at the same time, if anyone came to the second level of my house they just might call CPS. I can’t tell you the last time things were cleaned or put away and I’m sure my bathroom is diseased. But it’s such a daunting project at this point. And, what to do with the kiddos when you’re cleaning the bathroom? I can’t close the door because I’ll gag myself with the cleaners. But it’s thoughts of all the other things that “need” to get done that keep me from doing what I “want” to do. There’s a balance in there somewhere I’m sure. The flylady? Would surely have a heart attack. Screw her.