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... sigh...
Thursday, May 4th, 2006 10:25 pmYesterday was a Jonah day.
It was just one of those days, you know, where nothing seems to go quite right. I needed to pack, and a friend came over to help. Oh, what a wonderful friend, because I'm telling you, dearies, Auntie was flighty. Very flighty. And somewhat ditzy. This is not normal for me, because usually, I'm focused, I know precisely what I need to do...but yesterday, I just could not get it together! I was slightly hypoglycemic, so I ate a bit, but that didn't really help. I found myself doing something that drives the Husbandly One nuts, where I take something, say, packing tape. I'll have a roll, with scissors, in hand, set it down to do something, like peel an apple for the Impossible Son, and turn... and the tape is gone. Not where I remembered putting it. At all. And I will spend the next twenty minutes walking around the house, looking for it, unable to stop myself until I find it. It's awful, it's like the real me is a prisoner trapped inside watching it and unable to do one darn thing about it! At that point, the Husbandly One hands me a stick of cheese or a handful of cashews and says, "here, get your blood sugar up." But that wasn't what was wrong with me. I had to really force myself to focus, and when the Wonderful Friend left, I hit the (insert Dragnet music here)... The Wall of Fatigue. Correction, I didn't HIT it, I SLAMMED into it, face first! I have a vague memory of lasting long enough to fix the kids a snack (yeah for chicken nuggets!) and staggering into the bedroom to curl up on the bed and pass out. I woke up two hours later feeling some better. The Husbandly One came home not long after, and I was so relieved, but... not for long.
The kids were so good, until Papa got home. Then they felt free to let go, and we were trying to load up the van to take a load of boxes to the new house, everything went down hill rapidly. We got everyone out of the house only to lose them to the back yard. Got them rounded up and in the car, only to find ourselves arguing over petty details. You know, "She's pushing me!" "He's breathing my air!" "She's looking at me funny!" et al, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.... groooaaannn! It all culminated with the Hubandly One saying, "This is going to stop, and this is going to stop NOW!" And he closed the door of the Kia with emphasis. Barely a nanosecond later, the Impertinent Daughter's eyes went wide, and she cried out, "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow...!" I looked back and to my horror, her hand was caught in the door!!! She was reaching back for her seatbelt when the Hubandly One closed the door, adn her fingers got caught! I couldn't get out of the car fast enough to race around to the other side after shouting, "Honey, you shut the door on her hand!"
No, her fingers weren't broken. Thank the gods for Kia's safety designs and mods!! Oh, such a Jonah day! A hysterical daughter, a guilt-stricken husband, a son valiantly trying to defend his big sister (think Don Quixote tilting at windmills. The Impossible Son doesn't like it when we fuss at Cailly, even if she's just hurt him... go figure!) and Auntie trying to gather her scattered wits together enough to cope.
Today was much better, and I figured out what my problem was yesterday. Asthma. Not enough oxygen getting to the old brain and believe me, Auntie's brain can use all the oxygen it can get! I'm at the age where I have CRS Syndrome, i.e. can't remember shit. So today, I made sure to take my back up meds, and things went much more smoothly, though I still wanted to find a corner to curl up and go to sleep in. Can't wait to get into the new house and away from the things here that have made me so miserable allergy wise. No more Jonah days for a while, please!
It was just one of those days, you know, where nothing seems to go quite right. I needed to pack, and a friend came over to help. Oh, what a wonderful friend, because I'm telling you, dearies, Auntie was flighty. Very flighty. And somewhat ditzy. This is not normal for me, because usually, I'm focused, I know precisely what I need to do...but yesterday, I just could not get it together! I was slightly hypoglycemic, so I ate a bit, but that didn't really help. I found myself doing something that drives the Husbandly One nuts, where I take something, say, packing tape. I'll have a roll, with scissors, in hand, set it down to do something, like peel an apple for the Impossible Son, and turn... and the tape is gone. Not where I remembered putting it. At all. And I will spend the next twenty minutes walking around the house, looking for it, unable to stop myself until I find it. It's awful, it's like the real me is a prisoner trapped inside watching it and unable to do one darn thing about it! At that point, the Husbandly One hands me a stick of cheese or a handful of cashews and says, "here, get your blood sugar up." But that wasn't what was wrong with me. I had to really force myself to focus, and when the Wonderful Friend left, I hit the (insert Dragnet music here)... The Wall of Fatigue. Correction, I didn't HIT it, I SLAMMED into it, face first! I have a vague memory of lasting long enough to fix the kids a snack (yeah for chicken nuggets!) and staggering into the bedroom to curl up on the bed and pass out. I woke up two hours later feeling some better. The Husbandly One came home not long after, and I was so relieved, but... not for long.
The kids were so good, until Papa got home. Then they felt free to let go, and we were trying to load up the van to take a load of boxes to the new house, everything went down hill rapidly. We got everyone out of the house only to lose them to the back yard. Got them rounded up and in the car, only to find ourselves arguing over petty details. You know, "She's pushing me!" "He's breathing my air!" "She's looking at me funny!" et al, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.... groooaaannn! It all culminated with the Hubandly One saying, "This is going to stop, and this is going to stop NOW!" And he closed the door of the Kia with emphasis. Barely a nanosecond later, the Impertinent Daughter's eyes went wide, and she cried out, "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow...!" I looked back and to my horror, her hand was caught in the door!!! She was reaching back for her seatbelt when the Hubandly One closed the door, adn her fingers got caught! I couldn't get out of the car fast enough to race around to the other side after shouting, "Honey, you shut the door on her hand!"
No, her fingers weren't broken. Thank the gods for Kia's safety designs and mods!! Oh, such a Jonah day! A hysterical daughter, a guilt-stricken husband, a son valiantly trying to defend his big sister (think Don Quixote tilting at windmills. The Impossible Son doesn't like it when we fuss at Cailly, even if she's just hurt him... go figure!) and Auntie trying to gather her scattered wits together enough to cope.
Today was much better, and I figured out what my problem was yesterday. Asthma. Not enough oxygen getting to the old brain and believe me, Auntie's brain can use all the oxygen it can get! I'm at the age where I have CRS Syndrome, i.e. can't remember shit. So today, I made sure to take my back up meds, and things went much more smoothly, though I still wanted to find a corner to curl up and go to sleep in. Can't wait to get into the new house and away from the things here that have made me so miserable allergy wise. No more Jonah days for a while, please!
