I’ll Be Back

Pardon the long delay between postings. Life has been a little crazy for me and I put the blog on the back burner to simmer for awhile until I could get back to it.

Have you ever let a pot of tomato soup simmer until you get back to it? Familiar with the black, milk char on the bottom of the pan? The kind you have to soak for a WEEK, in order to completely remove?

That’s how I feel about facing my blog. Burnt tomato soup. Blech.

I have been mentally soaking my pan until I have the physical energy to get back to completing this vacation post.

In the mean time, I have been trying very hard not to make any more memories so I won’t have to feel guilty about being behind on the blog.

No, not really. But still.

I have been sick. Really sick. Bronchial stuff. The kind where your ribs feel like they are cracked in half from all your coughing.

The kind where you need someone to come and “turn” you so you don’t get bed sores.

The kind where you get to wear a panty liner because you are so weak that you start to pee every time you cough. TMI?

I was flying solo this week since Tommy T was in Canada. It wasn’t fun. 

Thank heaven for Preschool., or Bryce would have spent the entire week laying in bed next to me…shushing me every time I coughed over his Peppa Pig dialogue.

Sometimes, your week’s greatest accomplishment is keeping your children alive and shaving your legs. If you are gong to be peeing your pants…you really DO deserve to have silky legs and feel like a lady. Peeing your pants with stubble = demoralizing.

The antibiotic, steroids, and inhaler have brought a new spring to my step. That, and the fact Tom cut his trip short to come back and take care of me.

Have I mentioned how I LOVE this boy? He landed on Thursday in time to bring home Mexican take out, get the kids bathed and in bed, a quick trip to the grocery store, and he kept me company while I unloaded all of my cranky steroid emotion on to him. Steroids aren’t nice.

The steroids are responsible for me calling him a “Prima Donna” when he asked me where his heating pad was. Yes, the heating pad he needed to soothe his tired legs from a day of traveling ALL day…to get back in town to take care of my butt.

Roid Rage is real. Just sayin’. 

There were lots of tears…that finally had their “safe place” back to unload. He listened…wiped the tears and brought me Oreos and a mug of milk and we laughed watching Wipeout.  He even endured some “Say Yes to the Dress” for me.

With Tommy T back in town, the burnt milk on the bottom of the tomato soup pot is beginning to soften. The sludge is ready to slide out into the sink…and the pot is ready for the dishwasher….as soon as “someone” unloads it, or course.

I’m SO close. I think I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

I’ll be back.