The Bridge

Well. We strode bravely across that bridge towards Working Mommaland, but it turns out there was a toll to pay on that bridge and it smelled horrendous.

Now, I don' t know if Buckaroo acquired this stomach bug from the daycare because he started, you know, showing the affects the very afternoon we came home from Day One. Who knows, maybe he got it from some door knob or grocery cart somewhere. Anyway, that was 4 nights ago and all of us here in this house are feeling like it is behind us, no pun intended. I seemed to have gotten thru it with the most dignity intact. Oiy. Now the neighbors have it. The other neighbors had it a couple of weeks ago. Etc etc.

So, 2 nights ago I was crying in the bathtub after my fellas were in bed, because I was exhausted and worried and discouraged and sick, and nothing adds up to derangement quicker than all that. What a bumpy start to my new beginning. And parenting a sick child whilst one's self is also sick...such a rotten system. I was given permission by my mother and sisters to watch whatever I wanted on tv regardless of my son's intellectual development. Basically, I let him play with wires and broken glass (when he wasn't filling his diaper) and I shuffled around or sat in front of the tv. [Watched "Death at a Funeral" which was hilarious. I even laughed.]

Today I feel much, much better. We're just trying to gather ourselves together and do a thing or two around the house this weekend before trying again.

Speaking of the house, Woodworker is building the most glorious banister for our scary stairway. Because they are steep, wooden, and take a sharp turn, these stairs are not for the tall nor the klutzy, which counts out everyone I'm related to. I've learned to walk down them very slowly. Soon I will have an actual handrail. Its all made of repurposed fir with dramatic knots and old black nail holes. Woodworker is so good at this stuff. Buckaroo has a love/hate relationship with these working scenes because he loves his father but he hates the sound of drills. We might just need to clear the premise for the rest of the project. Thank heavens we're feeling better.

Now, I will close with a beautiful image unrelated to this post, so you can forget you read about our family pooping:

The scene of our wedding before the guests arrived. Ahhnnnnn. Please note the teenie tiny disco ball hanging from the rafter. Word.

Yours in health and grateful for it,
nellie