I’ll be cruising along, thinking I’m doing fine, and them BLAM! right into the brick wall of what being a single mama means. Tonight, while trying to handle a boy with the stomach flu who barfed all over my bed, I hit that wall. Stripping a king comforter, 6 pillows, sheets and blankets, for some reason was the trip-wire today.

I am fighting back tears, but they are winning. I have a sick child, and he needs me. I have two other kids who also need me. There is no “divide and conquer” anymore. It’s me. All me, all the time. Lugging the dripping laundry downstairs, my child starts to barf again, and I have to leave the laundry to attend him, wipe his brow, and give him comfort. And clean up Barf Part II.

I got the first batch of laundry going when I realized I have no bleach.When stomach flu hits, I don’t mess around; bleach is my friend. I am out. I cannot send someone to the store. I cannot run to the store. For some reason, the lack of bleach seems cataclysmic to me, and standing amid the pile of towels and pillow cases, I burst into tears.

They are hot tears of frustration, fear, anger, and aching sadness churned together with a fair dose rage and a dash of self-pity. Cursing my soon-to-be ex under my breath, I climb the stairs and begin putting my room back together. I had to dig to the back of the linen closet to find a king sheet, and then wrestled the thing on my bed. Crying the whole time.

Then I get to explain to my children why mama is crying. This is just so damn much fun. This is not what I signed up for. This is not what was supposed to happen. And yet, here I stand. Now what am I going to do with it? I suppose that’s the true test. Life sucks sometimes. It’s hard, and it’s not fair. At all. But… What am I going to do with it? What are you going to do with it?

And so I pick myself up again, wipe my tears, kiss my kids, say a prayer and carry on…

The kids are bringing in the Christmas boxes from the garage as I type. The dishes are all done and put away from yesterday, and all orange is being stripped from the house.  (I just heard a crash…oh crap!) Thanksgiving is done, and while I will continue to find reasons for being thankful, the mishmash of sadness and loss that is the actual holiday for me is now behind. (the crash was minor, no one is bleeding)

I’ve got Christmas carols on, and we’re getting out Mr. Fakey Fakerson. This year, while I momentarily considered a real tree, the $50 price-tag dissuaded me, and I opted for a pine and cedar scented candle. I think it might be a decent compromise- I like it.

Nothing in the world could have persuaded me to go out this morning and hit the sales. Not a thing. I did try and find a paper yesterday, but after trying ten stores, only to have them all sold-out, I figured that was an omen, and I was wasting more gas than I would ever save, considering I had no intention of getting up at 4 a.m. to fight over the 6 items actually on-sale with the 2000 people in line. (run-on sentence of the year!)

My mom and my sister-in-law were out at 3 a.m.- and they eat this kind of thing up. More power to them- I know they are having fun and getting lots of good deals. My mom’s called me six times from various stores, and I get stressed out just listening to the chaos in the background. I think my mom used to be disappointed I’m not a more eager shopper, and I am grateful that my SiL seems to fill that spot!

p.s. added at 3:10 pm: The male parental unit has once again flaked out and cancelled on his children. I will not expound upon how that makes me feel, and the only thing I am glad for is that I never told the kids he was supposed to show up today. Someday, perhaps, I’ll throw caution to the wind and write about this mess. He always encouraged me to lower my self-censorship and write with greater abandon…

I’ve told you about Chelsea before. She’s the closes thing to a sister I have on earth- and I love her more than I can put to words- which is saying something. Chelsea and I are cut from the same cloth. We look so much alike that people who know us have mistaken us at a distance.  Matter of fact- this picture? Most people think it’s me. It’s not. It’s her. Chels has been on my mind a lot lately…

When I got married, Chelsea made me 1000 origami cranes. Really. She did. She folded them all herself from crisp white paper, and then she hung them  all over the house.  They were wonderful, and magical, and I loved having them surround me. There were hundreds over my bed alone. I left them up for months. The thing is, I cannot remember what happened to them, and for some reason, it’s making me sad. So many tidbits and crumbs of ourselves we leave to others, and then they just float away. I love you Chels, even if I don’t know what happened to the cranes.

I am struggling. Badly. Everything is just so damn hard right now. Just getting up and making the day happen takes all I can possibly muster, and I’m not even mustering it all that well. This computer thing has really got me bogged down and bummed. I cannot transfer pictures from my camera, I cannot type in Word, I cannot do my bookkeeping, I cannot create invoices, I cannot do ANYTHING except access the internet- for which I’m grateful, believe me- but having a computer that is nothing more than a netbook sucks. The wind has just been sucked out of my sails.

The kids are needy, and I am a husk. It’s a bad combination. The Holidays are upon us, and I am cowering in the corner. I’m not a cowerer. I’m brave. I can do hard things. So this malaise baffles me.  I can’t even seem to figure out what I need to do. I know I need money, but not having  a working computer is really hurting that venture. So sit here, paralyzed, unable to move forward, stuck.

Thanksgiving is in three days, and I don’t even give a crap. I hate turkey anyway. I can’t get it together enough to go figure out what I need to buy. I wandered around the market today with Jeff and Abby while Bean was at school, but I couldn’t figure out what to get, so I got some diet Dr. Pepper and a thing of Ben & Jerry’s. And the B&J doesn’t even taste good. Blah.

I’m sinking. I’m sinking, and I cannot figure out how to keep my nose above the edge of the water. I just want it to stop hurting. I have the presence of mind to know it will all be fine someday, and this will not last forever- but I just cannot see how to make it through the next few weeks without utterly falling apart. And I don’t like that feeling. Not one bit.

• Glitter. At least right now. And I’ve got more glitter than Martha Stewart.
• Glade Soy Candle in Fresh Pine and Cedar. Takes me back to my childhood.
• The Body Shop Pink Grapefruit scented soap. I wish I had a vat of it.
• The chore-chart I made for the kids, and that they are living up to it!
• Ementhaler on Rye crackers. No wheat in RyeKrisp!
• Hand crocheted or knit dishcloths. Superior in every way.
• The fact that my kids have really nice school friends.
• Jeffrey’s first male teacher. Mature, experienced, solid, kind- best thing ever.
• That the Mo family is having Thanksgiving with me.
• That my RS president told me she’s been divorced. I would never have known…
• Cornmeal pizza crust from Vicolo Pizza.
• My retro Swingline stapler and the boxes of staples I got at a yard sale this summer.
• Clean bedsheets on all the beds in the house. Seems like I always sleep better then…
• Cold water from my reusable water bottle carried with me constantly now.
• Nice people at the grocery store who smile and talk to me or my kids
• A friend of Jeffrey’s who was thoughtful enough to include Bean in their plans.
• Scotch tape in a weighted dispenser.
• Remembering all the Thursday morning breakfasts with my grandma I got to have.
• The dryer humming softly to itself as it tumbles all my laundry clean.
• Snow forecast for tonight.
• Rannuculas
• Sheet music on my piano that I kind of understand.
• Finding packages in the front porch every now and then.
• European stamps and the cool, recycled thin envelopes they use.
• When Bean cuddles in my lap and lets me hug him.
• Butterfly Kisses from Abby.
• Jeffrey telling me over dinner that he thinks I’m a great mom.

It is done. Never let it be said that I did not sacrifice for my children.  I sat through all 2+ hours of it, when both Beanie and I were ready to leave at intermission. It would have been better if we had, actually- not only would we have missed the traffic and mess getting out of downtown, but we would have missed the painful lengths Disney has gone to to give Tinkerbell a back story and a family. And that stretched-thin storyline took up the ENTIRE second half of the show was a travesty we actually sat through. It almost hurt worse than the $20 spinning flashy-things they con you into buying after offering to let your child “just hold one to try it out” as you are captive in your seat, gritting your teeth as the lemonade guy walks by ($10 a cup) and the snowcone guy ($12, plus another $2 if you WANT A SPOON). You think I’m kidding?? I wish. I settled on us all sharing a bottle of $3.75 water. It was a bargain- or at least it felt that way. Thanks to Nana, the kids did get a flashy light thingy, but since mom was paying for refreshments, its water, babies.

Honestly, does anyone over maybe 10 enjoy these ON ICE productions? And I becoming a cynic? Because what I saw was a lot of second tier ice-skaters, badly lip-synching their lines to a too-loud voice-over track, and missing their cues too often. And it was opening night.  Maybe the Princess Show would have been a better bet- but it would have been a harder sell for the boys. As it was, by intermission, like I said, Bean was done. Abby went dressed in her Snow White costume, and the boys went as doting older brothers. I went as a mom determined to make it through the night with grace and patience, and miraculously, I too succeeded.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad family adventure. I do hate how they scam you on the outrageous price of rudimentary things- I mean, the program was $15. For a flimsy little pamphlet? Oh man, no way. The venue was clean and nice, parking was close and easy and inexpensive ($5) compared to everything else. Even our cheap seats ($12 each) were only 8 rows back from the ice. We were so close we could see… well, more than I wanted to see. I’ll just leave it at that. I know my kids enjoyed themselves, and will certainly have collected far less cynical memories from the night.

That’s good enough for me.