(not) my life.

I am ill.  Not fainting, hospitalized or fanned by worried loved ones frantically waiting for me to recover, ill.  More lethargic, grumpy, glaring at the glorious day and suitcases waiting to be unpacked, ill.  What a fantastic word and wildly overused so quickly.  Much better than sick.  Ill is a beautiful woman resting on a couch of pillows, tiny drops of sweat forming on her brow and perfectly red lips turned oh so slightly down.  Whereas sick is puking in a bucket or hacking up a lung.  Hmmm, come to think of it, we may be sick.  Either way I am not doing anything.  I should be.

There are suitcases in the hall half unpacked by Avalyn who has been taking things out and leaving them in random piles around the house or in cupboards.

There is popcorn in the couch (not on the couch because all of the cushions have been pulled off and look like bunker hills in a war zone) and flung like confetti over the living room floor.  Because this morning before I was fully awake I said yes to a movie and yes to popcorn.  New rule, nothing I say before coffee counts.

There is not any food in our house.  Which is not entirely true, but!  It does mean that my children have sucked on old lemons, stored banana chips in little corners of the living room like squirrels and half of the clothes pulled out of the suitcase have almond butter grub marks from Avi's little hands.  Almond butter on toast is a table or outside food, unless mommy is ill.  Then it is just a bigger mess to be cleaned 5 minutes before daddy comes home.

I think that my feet were dirty when I went to bed last night, which means the sheets must be washed today.

Ahhh laundry.  What an adventure this last little trip was.  Twenty minutes into the drive on Sunday Judah vomited, in the car.  Jiggity jiggity jog, home again to wash the hog. (sorry) Then back on the road.  Last night Judah woke somewhere between the shire and mordor and had to poop.  So he did.  In Avi's potty seat, in the car.  

Have I mentioned my chore list is a mile long?

Have I mentioned that for the very first time, it was MY child vomiting in a restaurant?   We went to Mongolian BBQ last night and as we were going through the line dishing up our food Judah began to vomit.  Thankfully I had just put him down, so this went on the floor and not all over the food.  He then puked all the way down the line til we made it to the bathroom and he felt 'all better'.  So we washed our feet, I took him to the car and changed him and we went back inside and finished our food.  Oh my goodness I can't believe we did that!  blech.

The things you I do.

I love my life.  I love that it is utterly unrefined, ridiculous, magical and hysterical.  Absolutely should not have taken my children from home this weekend.  ohhhhh well.

Does it ever seem that everything is a haze and you know you have to push past it, but just for a little while it is all encompassing?  In this moment I am engulfed.