Sitcom Mom

The last few days have been interesting to say the least. I got whacked on Thursday with a flu so vile I had moments of whimpering worse than when I was in labor. "I can't do this, I don't want to do this anymore...sniff, sniff, sob, puke." Oh yeah, it was bad. Luckily for me and all involved in our tiny domain it did not last long. Nor has anyone else been brought down like a sack of bricks by this illness.

I went through Friday recuperating. H stayed home with T.D. to let me suffer in silence on the couch. I creeped around the house through the day feeling like a ninety year old woman who never took a drop of calcium in her life. Saturday however was a different story. H had to leave for the day. I had to be better. I was. Better too much probably. If that is even a phrase.

After trekking through the snow on an early morning Easter egg hunt and grocery store jaunt I decided to attack our house to rid it of its germiness. I felt the whole place was crawling with vermin I could not see. I organized the pantry, cleaned every bathroom, the floors were swept, my dresser deemed too messy to live was ripped to shreds and organized. I dusted, did laundry and dishes galore! I went nuts basically. Plain ol' nuts. I don't know quite what happened, but I was indeed like a woman possessed. What happens after all this zealous behavior? A breakdown of course! A classic, sitcom Mom style breakdown.

Easter Sunday dawned and I was supposed to be sleeping in. I couldn't with the shrieks of Easter joy that were coming from downstairs. T.D. in full on hyper toddler mode was flying around the room as if on some new type of joy juice. H lay on the couch as if dying. He wasn't. I made coffee. We breakfasted. We did the church thing. We came home and I started to feel myself cracking like a week old Easter egg. H made himself lunch while T.D. had a meltdown on the floor. He requested at least thirty minutes of "H time" alone. I abide. Mentally my mind ticked off the missed moments of Avon Walk training I had accumulated, work I don't get to accomplish, etc while he does what he needs to do. Now he wants alone time? I gripped the stove. T.D. continues to meltdown as I try to load the dishwasher, wish my parents a Happy Easter, and feed T.D. lunch. I give up on the first two and end up pushing T.D. in her highchair away from me as she throws her food at me one too many times. She screams, balks, and generally refuses lunch. Wonderful. I begin to twitch. FINE! I'll just clean up then. I'm good at that. As I load the egg encrusted breakfast dishes into the dishwasher and run the disposal a gurgling sounds erupts from the sink. Huh.

The sink is bubbling up some rather disgusting mess. So is the disposal. Huh. That's not normal. It won't stop. I reach into the murky water and find nothing. No clog. I run the disposal and more filth erupts. Awesome. I slam the dishwasher shut, slam the remaining dirty dishes back into the sink, and begin muttering. I grip the stove some more. I twitch. I get all twitchy witchy and find myself talking in a slightly high pitched whisper to the raisins in the pantry. I gather up T.D. and head up stairs. What do I do? Do I have a moment of zen? Do I Calgon Take Me Away with it all? Nope. I put away laundry. I'm a mess. I stalk about the bedrooms with towels and tiny socks. I wonder to myself when I stopped speaking up about needing my own downtime. When did I just acquiesce and say, "no it's ok, that you forgot that we do Easter cards and tiny gifts..."? That was not the old pre-T.D. me. Those things are still important to me. Yet, somehow I've faded a bit. I'm not sure that I like that. I cannot find my voice. I'm a silly parody of a banal sitcom. All "ooh don't go near Mom right now, she's a bit crazy today."

Later that night I am left alone as I "seem irritated" and what happens? I talk to my mom and all my alone time is sucked up doing that. However, I do have a hair appointment on Tuesday and it's pathetically sad at how much I'm looking forward to the fifteen minute car ride I have ALONE.


Now to put things all into perspective head on over to Izzy Mom and watch the You Tube video she has up. I have to say I got a bit teary. Geez.