I’m feeling somewhat melancholy today. What a word, right? The weather is cloudy and cool. I’m tired. I just can’t seem to pull myself out of the dumps. Blah. A short while ago, I realized I have seven hours before I can even think of relaxing. Gah. Seven hours. School pick-up, homework, a drop-off at the dance studio, dinner (which I haven’t even decided on a menu much less taken anything out), clean-up, pick up at the dance studio, bedtimes and then finally, relaxing time. (head crashing forward into desk) I’m tired.
Little man is still doing better. He finished the week of half-dose of his anti-anxiety med yesterday. We are anti-anxiety-med-free. Am I worried? Well, considering I’m pretty much always worried about this kid, yes. I’m worried. Our goal two months ago was to get his anxiety to a level we could start therapies to help him cope better when triggers arose. Not that this was the only medicinal option. But I feel we’ve gone backwards two steps. He sighed a huge sigh of relief this morning not having to take his “blue pill.” I’m holding my breath wondering what the next few weeks hold for him. But we soldier on. We haven’t had a repeat of the conversations of early last week, thank the good Lord. He says he’s feeling better. His teacher says he’s doing better. Me? I just know how this goes. Honestly, I don’t know how much more I have in me for this year.
In two weeks, the Princess will be in the middle of Nutcracker hell week. Three straight nights of rehearsal, dress and non-dress, then three days of shows – four shows total. I will be playing chauffeur, and waiting through all the rehearsals and shows. Oh yeah, I signed up to be the Dance Gram mom-in-charge again, so there’s that. We only have 100-200 more dance grams to make, then I’ll run the table at three shows. Did I mention that’s the same week as Little Man’s IEP meeting? And our fifteenth wedding anniversary? And the neighborhood Christmas party?
Big Man is home sick today. He can’t kick this cough. I took him into the pediatrician a couple of weeks ago. Doc checked his lungs, and they are clear. But he’s been lethargic, along with the cough, and now he’s added a low-grade fever. It’s that time of year.
Negative Nellie strikes again. I know I’m down. I know I’m letting it build up on top of me. And as well as I know the Princess is going to have her usual exhausted meltdown somewhere in the middle of that first week of December, I feel my own meltdown coming on. Blah, blah, blah.