So this morning, I left pretty early for a quick medical test in a town 45 minutes away. I took my eldest with me and left everyone else in the dust.
Because they were sleeping.
But apparently, my starting up the car and backing out of the drive woke my 5 year old son up, and he naturally assumed that his ENTIRE FAMILY had abandoned him.
He did what any boy in his situation would do, which is run next door and tell “Super Grandma” (we have a lot of Grandmas around here) that his family left him alone.
She did what any loving neighbor in her situation would do, which is come next door and see the mess of my weekend and discover that my husband was sleeping soundly under his favorite thick comforter while his son was PJ-clad and gallivanting around the neighborhood.
We’re going to make her card.
I’m not sure if it should be full of apologies or gratitude. We’ll probably go with both and cover all of our bases.
This month has kind of been like that, you know?
A few weeks ago, we were driving to the store and my husband asked what I was thinking about.
I don’t know WHY he does that. It’s always mildly frightening, and he has to mentally go through this whole PROCESS of deciding to accept me anyway -in spite of my inner most thoughts.
“I was just thinking about how I hope I have a tumor growing on my brain so there would be a natural explanation for my utter lack of physical grace. Walking across a room and moving around is sometimes such a chore because I stumble and bump around. Is ‘bramble’ a word?”
Awkward is though.
Awkward has sort of been the theme of this month. It’s just been… off in ways that are head slappy and sighy and “of COURSE”y.
But the days are getting longer, and the Arizona heat is flirting with me. So I don’t much mind the awkwardness.
To be honest, I’m getting kind of fond of it. It feels familiar.
Which is probably hard evidence that there’s no tumor on my brain. I’m just naturally brambley.