Forced Vacation

First day of summer vacation over here and the kids are enjoying being together.  It’s the honeymoon phase and I hope it lasts and lasts.  They are playing “Amoeba”, each in their sleeping bag, “eating” stuffed animals (followed by the requisite “pooping” of animals out the side zipper, of course), and occasionally “shedding” of the skin to make offerings to the Queen Amoeba.  Other than getting their sleeping bags down an hour ago, they are entirely self-sustaining.  Oh, joy!

I am enjoying this far more than I should.  I was ignoring the approach of 100 some days of unstructured time, but my body was not.  Three weekends ago I got a cold that flattened me.  Two weekends ago I had an allergic reaction that flattened me.  Last weekend I threw out my back and, wait for it, it flattened me.  I’m still recovering.  One of these years I’ll learn how to sit on the sofa and give myself enough time to recover.  It was not this year.  Instead of lying low, I took a bunch of pain-killers and muscle-relaxants and planted the last dozen seedlings and buried a big, dumb, baby crow that fell from its nest.  Yes, I reinjured my back.  Yes, I got another two dozen mosquito bites and had another allergic reaction.  Yes I got flattened AGAIN.

Somewhere in there, I also had an eye appointment.  One that I was pretending to be just a regular check-up.  It wasn’t just that.  A few months ago my neurologist saw something in my right retina that called for the expertise of an ophthalmologist.  I dutifully made the appointment, found someone to watch my youngest and went.

The first test, the field vision test, is the one I failed.  It doesn’t have anything to do with the technician saying that the test is a common one they do for patients with MS.  She said that so casually while adjusting the computer, but she must have excellent peripheral vision because she suddenly turned to my wilting, punched-in-the-gut self.  “Oh.  Wait.  You DO have MS, don’t you?”

“Um.  No.  Not really.  I mean, yes.  Sort of.  It’s like a precursor. It could turn into MS.  But I’m fine. Technically…..Um.”

“Oh.  Well.  This is a field vision test. It’s a good test for everyone.”

So I did the test and I knew I was failing it when I did it.  There is a semi-circle on the outside of my right eye’s field of vision that is a bit of a blank.  I have to go back in two months to do that again, but I know the results will be the same.  The excellent news and what I should be focusing on is that both retinas and optic nerves look great.  Instead of celebrating that though, I took my dilated eyes and deflated self to the bakery and have been eating my way through the last week.

I’m a planner.  I’m sitting here, thinking about my “comeback” because that’s how I always think about these things.  Which might be part of the problem. I’m all about getting Deliberate, Inspired and Going (thanks Brene Brown!), but sometimes I should just sit the hell down and eat a donut. Someone go get me a donut!  That is going to be my new way:  Demanding donuts, Asking for help.

I actually sent out a rare but critical distress beacon to my best and brightest earlier this week and accepted someone cleaning my kitchen, bringing me tea and chocolate, helping me parent with virtual shots in the arm.  Only another mom knows you can’t pick up a damn thing off the floor and that you might be nonchalant about it but the disgusting mess in the kitchen is filling you with rage at your own incompetence and the slobs you live with.  Only another mom picks up your antisocial daughter and entertains her and feeds her lunch and drops her off several hours later while you do absolutely nothing.  Moms to the rescue.

As long as I’m spilling my guts, lets talk about boot camp.  I haven’t been going (and yes that is partly why I threw my back out, ‘cuz no back and ab strengthening is going on here) because I don’t know what to do with my daughter.  She’s overwhelmed by the kids’ room, and she can NOT be in the gym with me anymore, not just because of her walkout stunt–but also because it is now a gym rule.  Great!  I could go at 6:15 am, (which would require me to go to bed a half-hour after the kids and therefore forfeit almost all the time I get with my husband) but get this—the kids who used to sleep in until 7 are getting up at 5:45 these days and my husband is either working or working out then, so there’s no one to watch them anyway.  (BTW, whats-her-name with the three kids under three and the stupid six-pack and the “what’s your excuse” thing, STFU.)

Anyway.  Today is Day One.  Day one of summer vacation, day one without massive doses of Bendaryl, Demerol, muscle-relaxants, or other pharmaceutical help (hopefully).  Day one of ruling from this sofa, and so far, so good. Now, I have to go, because the Amoebas are trying to eat the cat and he’s too sweet and dumb to stop them.

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