It started yesterday. Day 10. I lost my mojo.
We had been coasting quite nicely, and the previous 9 days had honestly flown by without a hitch. Sure, I had been going to bed ridiculously early. I hadn't been able to keep up on everything around the house. But, basically, things were good. Most importantly, the kids had been happy. We had been busy, having fun, and Brad's absence had only been a minor ripple on our already constantly rippling pond.
Then came day 10. I was tired. I was cranky. The kids were also feeling a little over run. (Remember I mentioned the busy fun we'd been having? That means later bed times!) I lost my stride.
My patience was short. I was giving in purely 'cause it was easier. Another juice box? Sure. Just one more show before bed? Whatever. Ice cream and chips at the grocery store? As long as you're quiet.
I needed an escape. Since it wasn't possible to actually leave, I was into whatever it took to be able to lay on my bed and withdraw for awhile. A check-out, if you will. Undisturbed. Eat what you want. Drink whatever you wish. Watch that which suits your fancy on TV. Just do it without me, and quietly.
Wrong? Perhaps. Life altering? I doubt it. Badly needed to keep on with the next 10 days? Absolutely.
We survived. Day 10 is behind us. Day 11 has been WAY better. I've taken the reins again and said no to too much sugar, tv, boundary pushing. They weren't ruined in an evening of slacking off, and have fell back in line accordingly. Well done, children. I still haven't ruined you.
The cracks have been patched, for now. I'm sure they'll resurface eventually. That's only normal though, right? I'd feel way too robotic if there weren't struggles now and again. It's nicer to feel, cope and move on than to varnish a glossy veneer and fester inside.
Bring on the next 8! I'm ready.
Smiles, Be Well,
Crystal
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