I had a very different post planned for tonight. I post where I was going to ask opinions about all sorts of transitions that we’re about to throw at Dekker. I need help with that stuff! But all of a sudden, the post has changed.
If you were to google “overwhelmed,” you would see a photo of me. Weirdly enough, today was wonderful! Brady went to church in the morning while the kids and I slept in. My mom is sick and also missed church, but got in the car and came over around noon. Brady and my dad arrived just over an hour later and we all had lunch and spent the afternoon together. I served a lunch of another new recipe I tried out, and it turned out to be pretty yummy! We played toys with Dekker and he went down for a nap after a while. It was a really good day! Except that Dekker gave us a bit of a scare that got progressively bigger throughout the day. By 5:00-ish, we decided to take him to a walk-in clinic in Saskatoon. We bundled up our two hungry kids and took them out in the FREEZING cold to get Dekker checked out.
We didn’t wait to long before we were seen. The results weren’t awful but he needed a prescription. Plus, his yeast is back. That hit me harder than what we came there for. We have been battling yeast since Dekker was 13 months, and we’ve only just kicked it a month or two ago. And it has the nerve to come back. I could have cried. So we got ithe prescriptions sent to our usual pharmacy, and when we called to get it filled immediately after the appointment, they were closed. So we went back to the clinic and got it faxed to the pharmacy next door. They claimed they were slammed with orders and it would take about an hour. So plans moved around and we went out for dinner. So much for not spending unnecessary money this month. We didn’t even make it a week. *sigh* We grabbed some probiotic yogurt for Dekker, and the prescriptions at 8:00 and headed home.
On the drive home, Brady and I had a heavy discussion about something completely unrelated to the evening, but still very important. I hope no one thinks its rude to write about this, but I feel like we’re pretty open about our life, and this is just a very real thing in any relationship. Having to correct one another. I HATE correcting Brady, or making suggestions for improvements. I know he hates doing it to me too. So I don’t usually open those cans of worms unless I really feel its important. So I did, and while it was well received enough, it took a lot out of me. Every time, I backpedal as soon as I’ve spoken and then just feel guilty about it. So our drive home was fairly silent, with my anxiety building all along.
When we finally reached home, we raced the kids inside. In those thirty seconds we were outside, I got a toothache. It is so cold. Once we were all in, both kids began crying, Dekker exhausted and Laela hungry. We got Dekker in bed amidst many, many tears and a lot of snot. He is so sick. I went to rescue Laela. But bottles needed to be washed. I waited for Brady to be done in Dekker’s room, but he needed to go plug in his work van and take out the garbage from the kitchen, so I waited and held Laela. Well she was furious with the way I was holding her. She is so terribly twisted that we can’t hold her in her comfy position anymore, until she’s straightened out. So I was holding her on my other side, and we were both uncomfortable and angry. She was arching her back and wailing and kept slamming her face into my collarbone and bawling her head off. I finally just found a safe little corner of my house to lean in, and we both had a cry. Like I said, the picture of “overwhelmed.”
When Brady was finally available to me, I gave him Laela, cleared a sink and some counter space, and washed bottles. As I did so, I looked around my house. It is out of control. Yes, the kitchen is messy, like always. The dining room has been worse but isn’t great. The living room is not only a huge mess, but we need to take down Christmas soon. Our room is horrendous, with piles of bags and yarn and laundry and everything else all over the floor. Our fridge is packed with random Ziplocs full of unidentifiable leftovers that I could barely fit the yogurt into it. My house is a metaphor for my emotions right now.
Frazzled. Out of control. At a loss. Messy. Weepy.
Overwhelmed.