They were up till 10:30 last night
having played video games for well over five hours, watched movies for three more hours.
The energy to care for them, having left me when my hysterical self lost it on the front porch at about 5:00 pm yesterday.
I tried to call people. People who know what loss is. But no one was home. (And Freddie from The Meadows School, I don't have your number. I wanted so badly to talk to you last night. Please email it to me!!! (firstname.lastname@example.org)
At 10:30 Langston asked when I would put them to bed.
I looked at the clock and said "Oh, I guess now."
But they did it all themselves. They didn't need to be told to brush their teeths. (Besides I really didn't care.) Ezra slept in his clothes, giggling with glee that I would allow that.
This morning at 9:00 when everyone was finally up, and thought I had pulled myself together, I announced they were gonna have to get their own breakfasts.
Only now we are out of cereal.
And strawberry jam.
I yell at them only if my solitude is interrupted with requests for food or to break up an argument.
Lunch happened becuase Langston got hungry and made ravioli.
I was too busy putting the world out of my mind, trying to transfer all my files from one computer to another and watching movies.
I did leave the house today.
To drive Langston to an appointment
that we were 30 minutes late for.
I drove wearing my pajamas
and my flip flops.
Hair a mess.
I don't think the kids had any fruit today. They for sure didn't get vegatables.
I don't care.
Dinner was just ordered (at 8:00 pm!) becuase Langston said he was hungry.
The kitchen is filthy. Yesterday and today's food reminents on the counter.
I have no energy to take care of them or myself.
I have no energy to think who to call.
And what would I tell them anyway?
"Oh Hi. Well I was wondering if you could come over while I fall apart. I may cry a bit, but mostly I'm going to ignore the world and bury myself in work and movies."
"Oh and I'm not sure how long this will last. So you may have to come back tomorrow and the day after that. Better yet, could you just take my kids? That way I can wallow in the mess myself."
"Oh and one more thing. I will sound and look fine. So I hope you don't expect a sobbing fool. It's not my style."
I hesitate to write this lest someone will tell me to buck up.
And my response would be:
You can't say jack (@)*$ until you have been where I am now.
Besides, I'm still alive. Granted I may not be functioning great now, but ya know who the hell says I need to hide this from my kids! Heck, Langston can walk to the store if they really want cereal tomorrow morning.
But in reality I would think somehow they would be right, even though I know it is not so. Being weak is not a trait many aspire to!
So do yourself, spare me the guilt, and don't waste your finger energy telling me to be strong for the kids or for myself. In a weird way, I think I am finding strength in falling apart.I don't know what tomorrow will bring.
I suppose I will have to call someone if we want butter, apple juice, cereal and strawberry jam.
The pressure of getting all that together in the am literally makes me cry. I can't do shit, right now. Not shit.
And in a weird way, I'm proud of myself for finally letting go.