The past month has stressed this mama to the max. We’re on a reduced income at the moment so there are financial worries. Then there was all the illness. I’ve had strep twice within the past two months, Sam had a sinus infection, Persy Jane had a terrible yeast infection encircling her neck and strep, and Atticus brought home scabies. The wearing down of my body, the hours of nursing, the caring for wee ones who are cranky with illness has taken a toll. The laundry piles, the bills back up, my husband I only see for snatches of time that are spent discussing children, money, and family worries.
I put a halt on many of our plans and declared this past week a rest and mend week. It has soothed me beyond belief. There were still piles of laundry (thanks, scabies) and cranky kids, but that’s just life. There were many instances of loveliness:
- I enjoyed sitting outdoors with a good friend discussing books and motherhood while we enjoyed large cups of Earl Grey, homemade whole wheat quinoa french bread, and thick wedges of delicious cheese.
- My knitting group met. I had a delicious latte (decaf) made by an amazing barista, knitted a row or two, and laughed uproariously at a book about poop.
- I spent Friday morning with my mom. We ate breakfast and chatted for hours.
- Atticus has taken to waking around 5am and cuddling on the couch with me.
Today, my 33rd birthday, has been the best day.
- I had my morning cuddles with Atticus; he looked at me solemnly and asked where was my birthday cupcake. After cuddling with Atticus and nursing Persy Jane and waking the sleepy teen I was off to the coffee shop.
- While at the coffee shop I participated in Dewey’s 24-hour-readathon… sorta. I read three chapters of Vanity Fair and about 50 pages of a Plath biography and then I was pretty much done for the day.
- The rain and cooler temperatures made for perfect reading weather and brightened my mood.
- Sam brought me birthday tulips.
- In the late afternoon/evening Sam and I found ourselves a baby sitter and went out for a few hours.
- First we had some of the world’s best pizza at Atlas Pizza. The restaurant was packed, but those silly pizza shop friends of mine cut off all the lights, brought me a becandled turtle brownie and sang a hilarious and ghastly rendition of “Happy Birthday.” Then we had coffee and excellent conversation.
Now it is nearly 11 and I’m off to bed before little ones wake up needing hugs or milk or countless rounds of “you are my sunshine.”
33 is going to be wonderful.