Well, like I said before, he left last week. And my depression, insidious bitch that it is, has kept me up at night, sleeping too much, and either not eating or stress eating among other behaviors. Yesterday I was supposed to run errands, including mail off the stuff that he left here. Nope. Instead, I was up till 0530, was up at 0715, 0830, up from 1000 till close to noon (but that’s okay, cause I got to talk to D, which is what I needed – we just talked, which is nice), and then took nearly a 3 hour nap before the boy came home. In his “uh oh” clothes. I’m not saying how I know that my depression has kicked me in the ass; knowing it is enough for me, honestly.
The house is trashed. Really. It really really is. There’s no clean towels, we’re short on dishes, and I can’t remember the last time the washer was run. Add to that the cookies on the front room floor… Sigh. I am so not Martha Stewart. And I wasn’t too great about housekeeping while he was here – it was super annoying to be doing while he was sleeping or on the computer. If he was working, it would be a different story, but he was home; he could’ve helped. I would’ve welcomed his help. But it’s going to take time to readjust to one another again. I know this, even if I’m not real happy with it.
Today I’m concentrating on cleaning once my school work is done. In fact, if you see me on facebook or yahoo, please ask me if my homework and chores are done, cause I’ve gotta keep on task. Just thinking about the stuff that will and won’t accompany the family when D gets orders is helping me. S sending me “you are beautiful” nearly every day is awesome. She’s an amazing “accidental” friend to both me and D, and I wish that she lived closer to us.
Cae’s nearly done with extended school year for the summer. I don’t know how I feel about that, honestly. The big kids go back to school at the end of August – Beckie is starting seventh grade. And my sweet Cae is going into kindergarten. It’s shocking how fast he’s gotten to this age. All three will be starting swim lessons next month, too. D wants me to demand to treat Cae’s like a “mommy and me” class, but he’s really too old for me to do that. He’s 5, they may not let me. Marion’s barely within the age range for “mommy and me” swimming class at 3. I guess I’m just going to have to ask, but I’m not going to be that pushy mom.