One month tomorrow.

I just looked at the date. Yep. Today is almost over and I just noticed that today is November 6. That means two things. 1: My dad’s birthday was yesterday and I missed it. He’ll probably understand but I feel awful about it. 2: It’s been a month. A month tomorrow. One month ago today, I was watching him die and didn’t know it. Well, I knew it but didn’t know it. If that makes any sense.Amelia split her lip open again tonight, her top lip this time. Poor baby. Learning to walk is hard work. She’s much happier walking though. She doesn’t hang on me as much, it seems, and is content to explore and play by herself a little bit more. Poor Ella though. I feel bad that Amelia gets into her stuff like Senorita Wreckingball. Thomas gets his track broken and puzzle pieces turn into biter biscuits. Today, I was doing dishes and I came back out into the living room to find Amelia on top of the coffee table. She had pulled out the box of Mr. Potato Head pieces and used it as a step. And there she sat, as proud as she could be.

I love my girls but I need a break. I have a list of things to do that keeps getting longer and what I really need is a few hours a day without the “Aplix Twins”. Ella has preschool 2 afternoons a week and that helps (I did get a nap again today so I shouldn’t complain) but I still don’t get much done. I know I’m expecting too much but I could really use a haircut. And I need to get into the dentist. And I need to make (and keep) an eye appointment because my 2 week contact lenses are going on 3 months. I know, I know…I could end up blind and that would be my luck.

Don’t we all wish for time? Time to do what *we* want to do? Time to remember who we are? Some of the things I’ve been feeling come with the “mommy” title. But I miss being able to go to the basement to get a load of laundry out of the dryer and not go into a cold sweat because I can’t hear what they are doing for the 2 minutes it takes me to get back up. There’s where I feel guilty about wanting time for my things. What if something happens to one of them? What if Amelia chokes on a Duplo or what if Ella gets out the front door and gets kidnapped or hit by a car? I am responsible. For. Every. Day. If something happens to one of them before they reach adulthood that will make three. Three buried. And who is the common denomitator? Me.

So I don’t ask for time out like I should. I don’t have a clean house. My hair is shaggy and out of shape. Heck, I’m shaggy and out of shape. I’m sure I have a cavity and that I clench my jaw because I go to bed every night with my jaw aching. And my contacts feel like I just stuck a sequin in my eye. I know I should take care of myself. I know that.

But what if that’s time wasted? What if something happens to one of them?

 

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