One man down

This morning, I'm in desperate need of my Mom Cave.

The kids are on the bus. The husband has gone out the door once. Make it twice. Surely the third time will be his last. And, I grabbed a cup of coffee and skulked in here to lick my wounds.

I will not lie. I'm crying as I type. A gal has to have some sort of release, right?

To my fellow wives: what two words from your husbands/significant others fall on deaf ears the most?

Is it "right now" as in, "I'll do this right now", only you know that will never happen?

Is it "right back" as in, "I know we are headed out the door, but I'm gonna just go do this other mundane but suddenly VERY important thing before we leave, so you head out, and I'll be right back." Snort. Yeah, right. We're approaching winter now. My plan is to wait out the "right backs" inside.

No, these little annoyances are merely elements that add to the joys of marriage, don't you agree? lol. I've got the best one, the mack daddy, the home run ball that every wife I know will agree, that, when said, will fall on deaf ears unless more substantial proof is offered.

"I'm sick."

Bwahahahaha! Uh-huh. Now, here's your coffee and have a nice drive into work.

Cough. Cough. "I think I'm dizzy."

Eat a banana with your coffee and enjoy your nice drive into work.

If I took time off for every ailment this life, this house, THESE KIDS have given me, then I'd be on permanent disability. Grrrr. In case you haven't noticed, this issue is a point of contention in my household.

However, yesterday, my husband truly was sick. And, while I realize that he very often complains about coming down with something, constantly discussing his emerging symptoms ad nauseum, he rarely actually succombs to them. Yesterday, he spent the day in bed (with his laptop), but he was, indeed, in bed. This is a sight I rarely ever see.

Daddy was sick.

Fortunately, both children were in school, which gave me until 2:30 to mentally grasp the marathon that spread before me. However, I've come to learn that, in this house, one can never truly prepare.

This holiday season, our younger son's hyperactivity is in overdrive. He is like living flubber, bouncing, screaming and moving about oblivious to his surroundings--that is until something freaks him out, like the elevator his older brother has just decided is his new obsession. During the holiday season, his older brother is taking comfort in mall sprints, running from each store's elevator (up and down) to escalator (up and down). Elevator. Escalator. Repeat until store is boring. Move to next department store.

Younger son bounces around, yelling for all to hear until he gets into an elevator. Oh, gosh, ANXIETY! Per my instructions, he starts breathing deeply to quell his anxiety (only, I think it is zapping him up more).

After homework, dinner, preparing night medicines and pajamas, I decided I couldn't put off the mall any more, and I didn't have daddy to take the next shift.

So,I put jackets on the kids and mentally tried to steady myself for the mall marathon that awaited us. Older son stopped dead in his tracks.


"Daddy. Mall," he said.

"Mama. Mall," I said.

"Daddy, please." he continued.

"Mama today. Daddy tomorrow," I countered.

"Daddy!" He insisted.

"Mama!" I returned.

"DADDY!"

"Mama or you get spanked." Yes, I said it.

He decided Mama would be ok and walked to the car.

The pace is relentless. In one store. Up. Down. Screaming. Bouncing. Breathing. Telling one son to slow down and one son to go faster: one son use his words and one son to BE QUIET. UUUGgggghhhhh! Out of store. Into another.

Ahhh, groovy speakers on the ceilings. Track those for a while. Escalators up. Down. Up. Down.

Elevators. Up. Down. Up. Down. Screaming. Breathing. Screaming. Breathing.

Out of the store and walking to another. Decide to sit on the floor halfway and take off shoes and socks. Heck. I decided to sit down, too. So what?

After nearly two hours of this, I was cooked. I got the kids home and in bed as fast as possible. Once the last smoochy, little munchkin was fluffed and ready for bed I hear...

..."Car."

I ignored it.

"Car."

"No car. Bed."

"Car!" from our older son.

I'm screwed and I know it. Holidays equals high anxiety, which equals more car trips. Lucky me, the post bath car trip starts tonight!!

Let's just say that I didn't handle the dismount from the beds to the downstairs into the kitchen with grace. I did some screaming of my own as we all, clad in our pajamas and boots, put on jackets and headed back out the door and into the van for another blessed trip to who-knew-where.

The drive took about forty minutes, just enough time to make everyone tired. We came home, the boys fell into bed, and so did I. No dinner. Forgot any medicines I usually take. I just fell onto the lovely air mattress we have on the floor for our younger son who is overcome with fear that his room is going to implode and swallow him whole.

I don't know why this morning I thought maybe my husband would spring out of bed to help me get the boys ready for school. Not sure? But, he didn't. The door was still closed. Sigh. I took out the garbage and set to waking, dressing and cooking a boatload of food for these food intolerant kids. I tried to be cheery, and I don't want their days to begin with tension, but I was holding on by a thread.

When the last bus drove off, I quietly walked inside, poured my cup of coffee, sat down and cried. I don't know what my problem was. There were only a couple toileting accidents. I didn't have to change even one diaper in the middle of the night. Things really could have been worse.

Yet, even if it was just a small taste, it was still a taste of what this life would be like without my husband. I wouldn't want it. Please, God, don't ever let that happen. With all the craziness that has been thrown our way, somehow--even if it isn't the best way--we have managed to make it work. Together. As a team.

The thought of doing this alone is enough to break me.

Much love and much respect out there to my fellow special needs moms who are doing it alone every single day!