In Case You're Wondering

Ahhh, 2016 is finally over. I did a family slideshow, like I do every year, and it was so painful I cried through the whole thing. The girls begged me to put trendy pop songs in it, so Justin Beiber accompanied some of my moments. Insert more tears. Even memories that were supposed to be positive and good were hard to look at again because I remember the constant ache in the back of my heart during all those times. It never left. I wish it would. 

I'm worn out. 

I've been up since 4 am (thanks, Lucy). I started to nod off again around 7, but by then Hannah was pulling on my covers and begging me to cut her orange for her lunch. Mom get up mom get up mom get up mom get up. Leah wants a ride to school. It's too cold to walk. Jacob runs out the door, eager to start a day of driving for Uber. Lucy fusses and fusses. I have a test today so we both have to get out the door, dressed and diaper bag packed, by 9 am. Leah doesn't get a ride. She's mad. Hannah has to walk with the neighbors. She's mad. Lucy wants a nap. She's mad. 

I pass my test, the 6th one I've taken for NY teacher certification. It's 40 questions that cover science, arts, social studies, health and history. There was no way to study for it. Lucky guessing.

I pick up Lucy from my friend's apartment. She cried for a half hour after I left. I feel bad for my friend. Other people's kids are so rough.

Someone posted on Instagram their new apartment arrangement. NYC apartments is a big game of shuffle the shelf around until someone is happy. Their arraignment is beautiful--picture perfect furniture, decor, everything. My place looks like trash. I feel bad. Really bad. So I start cleaning. But Lucy fusses. So I talk to my sister instead.

Hannah comes home. She wants to show me all the things she made with her rainbow loom bands during recess. She wants to review every conversation she had and all the answers she gave that were right.

Jacob calls. He's sick again, stomach pain and headache. Low grade fever. He keeps working. It's not an exaggeration to say we are one month away from homeless.

Leah calls. She wants a ride home but decides she can walk faster than I can put Lucy in the car. She runs through all her grades and interactions with bratty 7th grade girls. Lucy fusses in the background.

Everyone is home. Lucy falls off the couch. Leah poops on the bath math (accidentally, but still...). Hannah chatters nonstop. Jacob comes home sick. Lucy cannot be put down. She smells like tater tots but I can't give her a bath until the bathroom is disinfected. I try to manage everything one handed. Did I eat something today? I can't remember. 

I have to get laundry. This involves pulling cash out of an ATM (three blocks away), taking the red cart and picking up the clean, folded laundry from Mega J (three blocks in the other direction). It's $35 today. Kind of high but everyone was home during the break being messy. I stop at Bernie's deli to get some chicken noodle soup for Jacob who is sure he's dying of meningococcal tumors. 

I get home. I feel nauseous and exhausted. Hannah wants dinner. Hannah wants help  with homework. Lucy cries more. 

My friend texts. She encourages me to celebrate my passed test by doing something for myself. I want to respond hysterically but withhold. She's having her own crisis. I want to help her. I can't help myself but I don't want to admit it. 

Leah has an emotional breakdown about pooping on the floor and just being 12. I send her to bed, trying to be empathetic but firmly remind her to shower in the morning. Will deodorant cover the poop smell, Mom? No. You need to shower. Lucy fusses.

Hannah makes me hot chocolate. It's such a sweet gesture that I choke up a bit. She makes a gift for her friend, Nazmun, and offers Jacob some hot chocolate. I love her hospitality. She's so good at taking care of people. I'll even try to forget that she was supposed to be watching Lucy when she fell off the couch.

Hannah goes to bed. Jacob spills soup on the couch. Lucy cries. 

Lucy falls asleep. Reluctantly, like she's going to miss something. 

Jacob falls asleep on the couch in a heap of feverish chills under the blanket that Hannah gave him. I try to not panic about lost income if he doesn't drive tomorrow. Do I pray that he can drive or pray that we can figure out yet another financial disaster? Such a toss up.

I lay down. My mind is racing and empty all at the same time. I'm surrounded by books, projects, hobbies I can't touch or enjoy. 

I forgot to wash bottles. So much for me time. 

Goodnight, world.  

Comments

Anonymous said…
Dude, this does not sound great. I'm sure today's news doesnt help any. Ugh. What are we going to do???
January 17, 2017 at 5:05 PM
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