Some days are blue and gray
It has been one of those days that makes it hard to appreciate anything. You know being a Mom is no walk in the park on a normal day. And being a widow, well that is hard. Being a Mom who is woken up at 1AM by a child who is puking red slushy all over the bed, well, that is a different kind of special.
I like sleep, like a lot. I don't like to be woken up or disturbed. Since Justin died, I have let the six year old with major separation anxiety sleep in my bed, maybe partially for me as well as for her. So, I endure the occasional night where I get kicked in the back or listen to her talk in her sleep. However, being woken up by a child puking in your bed, is a delight I would rather miss out on. So, after cleaning her, calming her and stripping the bed, I put her back down to sleep on clean sheets and went to put the puked on sheets in the wash. I got back to sleep for about 45 minutes before being woken by her throwing up again in my bed and also on my carpet. I mean seriously. So, rinse repeat and back to bed one more time. The third time she threw up was blessedly in the trash can. So, needless to say when she woke me up at 8AM I was not with it.
It was a weird day and I just could not shake the blues that enveloped me. It is times like this when I am tired, stressed, exhausted, and sad that I get to feeling the most sorry for myself. Why was I left alone to do this parent thing? Why do I have to do everything? All the cleaning, all the comforting, all the things? Why am I stuck with all of this, alone? You know, it's not fair. None of it. But as I always tell my kids, Life isn't fair princess and anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something.
Sometimes our days are not really great, or glamorous. Sometimes we are cleaning red vomit out of carpet and wishing there was someone else to help with the drudgery of the task. Sometimes I want to yell about having to deal with these kind of days without my partner to lean on and whine to. And I do sometimes. But I cannot allow myself to wallow in these things. No one did this to me. All kids get sick sometimes. Even when Justin was here he wasn't that helpful in these situations because he would gag over the vomit and I would end up cleaning it myself. I laughed about this in my head in the middle of the night.
I have to remember that in the words of Annie, the sun will come out tomorrow. This is one bad, hard day but it does't define all my days. And I don't have to pretend that it is okay, it is a blue day and I can cry some frustrated sad tears.
If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there; if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath. Psalm 34:18 MSG.
I like sleep, like a lot. I don't like to be woken up or disturbed. Since Justin died, I have let the six year old with major separation anxiety sleep in my bed, maybe partially for me as well as for her. So, I endure the occasional night where I get kicked in the back or listen to her talk in her sleep. However, being woken up by a child puking in your bed, is a delight I would rather miss out on. So, after cleaning her, calming her and stripping the bed, I put her back down to sleep on clean sheets and went to put the puked on sheets in the wash. I got back to sleep for about 45 minutes before being woken by her throwing up again in my bed and also on my carpet. I mean seriously. So, rinse repeat and back to bed one more time. The third time she threw up was blessedly in the trash can. So, needless to say when she woke me up at 8AM I was not with it.
It was a weird day and I just could not shake the blues that enveloped me. It is times like this when I am tired, stressed, exhausted, and sad that I get to feeling the most sorry for myself. Why was I left alone to do this parent thing? Why do I have to do everything? All the cleaning, all the comforting, all the things? Why am I stuck with all of this, alone? You know, it's not fair. None of it. But as I always tell my kids, Life isn't fair princess and anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something.
Sometimes our days are not really great, or glamorous. Sometimes we are cleaning red vomit out of carpet and wishing there was someone else to help with the drudgery of the task. Sometimes I want to yell about having to deal with these kind of days without my partner to lean on and whine to. And I do sometimes. But I cannot allow myself to wallow in these things. No one did this to me. All kids get sick sometimes. Even when Justin was here he wasn't that helpful in these situations because he would gag over the vomit and I would end up cleaning it myself. I laughed about this in my head in the middle of the night.
I have to remember that in the words of Annie, the sun will come out tomorrow. This is one bad, hard day but it does't define all my days. And I don't have to pretend that it is okay, it is a blue day and I can cry some frustrated sad tears.
If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there; if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath. Psalm 34:18 MSG.
Memories from long ago are rushing threw my head. Nights running to the Emergency room. A daughter throwing up baby aspirin on a brand new couch. I would go back in a minute and do it all over again. Retrospect is so much easier than slugging through the day to day. God bless all of those memories.
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