I have so much going on in my head. I feel like I can hardly calm down even enough to sleep, I wake up in the middle of the night, my mind reeling with thoughts. But none of it really matters, it is just an overactive mind. I think it is simply that if I stop, even for a moment, I will feel lonely and sad. I miss Will, I miss having a partner, a friend, even an enemy if that is how we feel about each other that moment. I look around this house, and it feels empty. There is something missing, a sound, a smell. Something just doesn't feel right. But I know that I will get used to this over the next year.
I will become accustomed to not having a man around. I will grow used to this lonely feeling and it will ease up a bit, maybe. We are a house of girls right now. A mama, two daughters, a female dog, and two female cats. That is a whole lot of girl. I miss the odor of man.
Once again, I am in a funk. I don't want to be home, and I don't want to go out. I want the house to be clean but I don't want to raise my butt from this chair in order to clean it. If anyone offers a playdate, or any reason to not be here, I pounce like a cat on a mouse. I should just make myself slow down. Because I need to. My head is stuffy, and one of my ears hurts a little. It has for a few days but I don't want to be, I can't be sick. I can't stop. I can't rest. Rest is for the weak.
Monday I was able to talk to Will, but only briefly because Gwennie was sick. She kept screaming and told me "I gonna puuuke." Her screaming made it impossible to talk on the phone. It made it impossible to think at all. And shortly after we hung up, she did puke. A. Lot. For hours she threw up. She would ask for a drink and suck once or twice on the cup then BLECH! Out it went. She nursed for a second and BLECH! All over me. When I thought she had stopped I called Will back. But minutes into our conversation Gwennie was screaming and following me around. She puked again and we had to get off of the phone.
I felt so overwhelmed. I felt like there was no way I would ever be able to make it through the next year. In a way I blamed Will, but that was a ridiculous thing to think, and I quickly got over it (almost as quickly as it was in my head it was out.) Luckily these girls are rarely sick. They come down with the occasional cold or stomach bug, but never as bad as what my poor sister just went through. I mean (knock on a big log) they have never really even had an ear infection. Neither of them. Its amazing. I look at people whose kids are sick all of the time, and it seems like mine are. But really? They aren't. They are really rarely ill. (Say that five times fast. Hard, huh?)
Tuesday night I called Will again. Just to talk for a moment, because the night before I hadn't really gotten to talk to him. It was so pleasant to sit on the couch and watch the girls play outside while I knew he was just there, on the other end of the phone. I didn't really have anything to say. And I felt stupid when I was talking to him. I felt like the things I want to tell him, all of the silly little things going on at our house, are dumb. And he doesn't want to hear them. But I should know that isn't true. He cares deeply for us, and wants to know about the silly things. He loves to talk to the girls on the phone. It is asinine to think this way. But I can't help it.