May 19th. Day 64.
Day 64.
Things have been spooky quiet around here. Mr. Yoy drove Little E to Orlando on Saturday to spend some quality time with his Grandpop. Big E went along for the drive. Do you know what this meant, folks?
I HAD 36 HOURS ALONE IN MY HOUSE. I REPEAT. ALONE. IN. MY. HOUSE.
It took this break for me to finally feel how tightly wound I've been. The stress, slowly seeping into my bones, my soul over the past eight (nine?) weeks briefly left my body. I took a bath. I went for a long walk with a friend. I had a driveway hang with some friends from my Israel trip. I ate what I wanted, when I wanted. I read UNTAMED by Glennon. I slept. Really slept. I thanked Mr. Yoy for giving me this gift. Because it was such a gift.
Mr. Yoy and Big E arrived back on Sunday night. Halfway through their drive, they found a golden doodle breeder and tried to convince me that this was what our family needed. I took a look at our blind, deaf, toothless poodle and knew that a puppy would be the kiss of death for her.
LET US KNOW RIGHT NOW BEFORE WE PASS THE EXIT! YOU HAVE TWO MILES TO DECIDE...
The Yoysers are nothing if not completely impulsive. But you all know that poodles are my ride-or-die and the next dog that lives in my house will look more like this:
I like my dogs crazy and I'd never dare cut that personality trait with the sweetness of a retriever or a lab.
But even more likely, the next dog that resides in my house will be a hot dog.
With Little E gone and schoolwork done, there really hasn't been anything to fight about. Which is nice.
We were in the middle of playing a cutthroat game of Sorry when I received two texts.
DID YOU GET THE EMAIL? - Friend from SoFlo
WELP, THERE IT IS. - Mr. Yoy
I didn't even have to check my email. I knew what had happened.
SLEEPAWAY CAMP. HOME TO ALL MY FAVORITE MEMORIES OF MY CHILDHOOD. MY KIDS' SUMMER HAVEN. THEY HAD TRIED THEIR HARDEST. BUT IT WASN'T MEANT TO BE. CANCELED.
Big E burst into tears. So did I.
We had been teetering on the edge of the expanse of a wide-open summer and we had just fallen in. The bottom was jarring. I tried to talk to Big E about what summer would look like. His suggestion was video games from sunrise until bedtime. This idea made me sick to my stomach.
We have never NOT done camp. Even when it was just a local day camp. Camps are key to keeping my kids off their electronics. I know I should be this key, but I get worn down. And tired. I'm going to need to figure this out and am taking suggestions...
I spent a lot of the afternoon moping around. I'm just sad. I cried to a neighbor or two. I felt a little better. My friend wisely pointed out that we are all in this together. And we will make it, together.
Things have been spooky quiet around here. Mr. Yoy drove Little E to Orlando on Saturday to spend some quality time with his Grandpop. Big E went along for the drive. Do you know what this meant, folks?
I HAD 36 HOURS ALONE IN MY HOUSE. I REPEAT. ALONE. IN. MY. HOUSE.
It took this break for me to finally feel how tightly wound I've been. The stress, slowly seeping into my bones, my soul over the past eight (nine?) weeks briefly left my body. I took a bath. I went for a long walk with a friend. I had a driveway hang with some friends from my Israel trip. I ate what I wanted, when I wanted. I read UNTAMED by Glennon. I slept. Really slept. I thanked Mr. Yoy for giving me this gift. Because it was such a gift.
Mr. Yoy and Big E arrived back on Sunday night. Halfway through their drive, they found a golden doodle breeder and tried to convince me that this was what our family needed. I took a look at our blind, deaf, toothless poodle and knew that a puppy would be the kiss of death for her.
LET US KNOW RIGHT NOW BEFORE WE PASS THE EXIT! YOU HAVE TWO MILES TO DECIDE...
The Yoysers are nothing if not completely impulsive. But you all know that poodles are my ride-or-die and the next dog that lives in my house will look more like this:
But even more likely, the next dog that resides in my house will be a hot dog.
With Little E gone and schoolwork done, there really hasn't been anything to fight about. Which is nice.
We were in the middle of playing a cutthroat game of Sorry when I received two texts.
DID YOU GET THE EMAIL? - Friend from SoFlo
WELP, THERE IT IS. - Mr. Yoy
I didn't even have to check my email. I knew what had happened.
SLEEPAWAY CAMP. HOME TO ALL MY FAVORITE MEMORIES OF MY CHILDHOOD. MY KIDS' SUMMER HAVEN. THEY HAD TRIED THEIR HARDEST. BUT IT WASN'T MEANT TO BE. CANCELED.
Big E burst into tears. So did I.
We had been teetering on the edge of the expanse of a wide-open summer and we had just fallen in. The bottom was jarring. I tried to talk to Big E about what summer would look like. His suggestion was video games from sunrise until bedtime. This idea made me sick to my stomach.
We have never NOT done camp. Even when it was just a local day camp. Camps are key to keeping my kids off their electronics. I know I should be this key, but I get worn down. And tired. I'm going to need to figure this out and am taking suggestions...
I spent a lot of the afternoon moping around. I'm just sad. I cried to a neighbor or two. I felt a little better. My friend wisely pointed out that we are all in this together. And we will make it, together.
UNTIL NEXT SUMMER, CPW. SIGH.
Comments
Post a Comment