It’s not yet 7:30, so maybe I’m jumping the gun, but the antibiotics are starting to work and Lizzie was able to walk outside to go pee last night. She was essentially paralyzed for a few days, and it was devastating. I’m so relieved.
Kids are struggling still. I’m waiting for my poor Jessie to fall apart. She’s been working – still, always. So much working. Her two least favorite classes haven’t assigned anything, so she’s been doing a deep dive on all of the subjects she loves. We rearranged her bedroom so that she has her own little desk area and she’s been in there all day, every day. She comes out every few hours, dances around with us, knits and chats and then goes back in.
My Sam is stressed. All the time. My Sammy is stressed. He is both my easiest and toughest kid, when it comes to emotional equilibrium. He’s completely chill and fine, unless he’s not. And yesterday afternoon, he was not. Between his dad getting laid off, and the dog not being able to move, it just all billowed up on him and he fell apart. But in classic Sam style, he waited until after he finished his math quiz, and then sobbed for ten minutes because he didn’t feel good. I rubbed his hair, soothed and then got him toast and after that, he seemed more stable. He was up all night the previous night, texting me frantic messages about worrying about money and the dog, but last night, the last text came in around quarter of eleven, and I’m hoping he slept the rest of the night.
Julie is probably having the toughest time. She likes school more than the other two do. Jessie likes the academics, but the in person experience often leaves her miserable. Julie likes the academics and loves her friends. She’s just happier in school. She likes the structure, the socialization, and being stuck at home with older siblings and a mother who’s incredibly laid back is challenging for her. Marc is starting her on a fitness routine, and yesterday, I laid out her whole day schedule and that really helped. She seemed to be more focused and content yesterday.
My poor Marc is a mess too. Not a mess, but this is hard. Neither of us ever wanted to be back here, worrying about money and how to fill his days. I love him so much, and as worried as I am, I’m also just straight up sad that he’s going through this. I think we’ll be okay – and honestly, our financial situation is going to really mirror his stress level. If we can get through this with a minimum of set back, keep up with our bills and come out the other side – I think he’ll be okay.
As for me, I’m waffling between terror, falling apart and calm. I worry all the time about people getting sick, about financial doom, about how the kids and Marc are handling it. But my dog is up and walking, and we’re all healthy and whole. We made it through a psuedo tumor and vision loss with NO money. We can handle this.
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