The Way We Worry

So it’s been a heck of a ride lately.  I have to be honest:  I don’t often feel as if I’m coping as well as I could/should be.  Most of it is little, stupid crap that won’t even be remembered in a few months.  Some of it’s not.

Our new-ish fridge died this past weekend.  We spent about $1600 on it 6 years ago.  My Macgyver husband can fix just about anything.  Over the years, he’s fixed cars – using zip ties and rubber gloves (no joke) – air conditioners, TVs, lights, outlets, fans, you name it.  He spent most of last Saturday watching YouTube videos on refrigerator diagnostics and repair and thinks he knows what happened.  We ordered a part.  It won’t be in until September 14th at the earliest.  Fortunately we have a working chest freezer and Oui Oui let us borrow a dorm fridge.  But feeding a family of 4 out of that?  It’s been challenging.  This morning the eggs had frozen.  Have you ever tried to crack, peel, and scramble frozen eggs?  It’s different.  Fingers crossed the part works and we’re back to full refrigeration strength in a few more days.

My silly dude and his strawberry patch - back when I could keep fresh produce in the house.

My silly dude and his strawberry patch – back when I could keep fresh produce in the house.

It’s allergy season.  My son’s nose runs constantly despite the Zyrtec that has become a major food group.  The good news is that he’s as cheerful and charming as ever.  The better news is that so far there hasn’t been a single ear infection.  And we know that at least one tube has already fallen out.  Hopefully this means he’s big enough not to have these kinds of problems again.  But I watch his ears and snot like a hawk.

Felix rocking his "Beethoven hair" and shirt...

Felix rocking his “Beethoven hair” and shirt.  Hopefully my kid will get to keep his hearing intact, unlike Ludwig.

We’re planning Stella’s birthday party for a week from Saturday.  Party planning yet again.  And I’m left with the distinct impression that “RSVP” has gone the way of phones with cords and cassette decks.  Out of the 20 kids in her classroom, we only heard from 5 families.  How in the hell is anyone supposed to plan and execute a party, dammit?

Deep cleansing breath.  Tantrum over.  Sorry.

Will has had jury duty, and true to form, he can’t discuss what’s up.  It was supposed to run through today, but something tremendously weird happened and after 2 full days in court, they took a recess until Monday and Tuesday.  So this will drag on next week.  He’s not handling the stress of missing work well.

And his birthday is tomorrow.  Mine is a week from tomorrow, on the day we’re throwing Stella’s party.  I haven’t even gotten my husband a card.  I feel like an asshole.  He says he doesn’t care, but I feel like an asshole anyway.

And then there’s the ongoing saga of kindergarten.  Our lives have become a daily blur of red, yellow, and green dots.  Some days I get very angry about it.  Other days I get scared that something is bad wrong.  I second-guess most of the decisions I’ve made.  Maybe we should have taken the gifted program slot, where they would have more experience dealing with kids like my daughter – kids that are exceptionally advanced in some areas but not in others.  I feel like my entire chest is becoming some hard calcified rock of worry.  Like a pearl.  Only not as beautiful and valuable.

My kids and Donut.  If only I had a big ol' donut to make me feel better.

My kids and Donut. If only I had a big ol’ donut to make me feel better.

To hell with refrigerators and birthdays, juries and snot.  I just want to be able to send my kid to school and feel ok about it like other parents.  I want to be able to trust her teacher.  I want this teacher to value and enjoy the wonderful parts of her – not just pick her apart.



About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to The Way We Worry

  1. Miss Fanny P says:

    I head you on all of these things. From ears to fridges. Mine is leaking. The ears used to leak
    And my third is a Felix too!! X

  2. Miss Fanny P says:

    Hear not head

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