The worst part of suffering through these migraines is not the overall pain involved, or even the time you loose waiting for it to pass, but overall the utter destruction that occurs in light of it.
This week I was suppose to be drafting blog posts, practicing site words and helping two boys memorize passages from a scout booklet. I was suppose to be home prepping a birthday banner and stocking up on things I need for the weekend. And yet, not a single one of them can be checked or counted off. Because instead, I woke after nearly two days in bed, to the sights of spilt cereal. Scatters of frosted flakes the baby had sprinkled - albeit sweetly - around my bed side. Blanketed forts attached to tipped over chairs. A fresh Popsicle tray ransacked and devoured. Popcorn in the bathroom, toys strew across every inch of the house, and a hell of a lot of toothpaste in globs around each every sink. Oh, and cringe worthy evidence of one kindergartner who went (happily) to school in semi matted hair and a pajama shirt because he told his dad I "let him," and that he was most "comfortable" that way. All further proof that no matter how much I really want to believe and entrust in their father during these, my most begrudging forms of "down time" - it always turns out bad. Not that I can even hold much resentment. With him working the night shift all month long, it's landed us both in equal parts domestic paralysis.
But still, it never ceases to amaze me, how quick a house is to fall all apart on us in just a few short days.
Now that the pain is finally starting to dissolve, I've got more on my plate than I can even begin to sort through. With my first cup of coffee, in three whole days, brewing now as way of desperate motivation I'm trying my best to talk myself through the sorting of such chaos.. Piece by piece, corner by corner, picking up the pieces that unraveled in my absence. Knowing, somewhere in the weary deep hallows of my heart, I'll find a way to get it together. Not as orderly as I had hoped. Not as timely as I'd like, but wondering all the same . . . is it ever that way?
Cheers, to a tidy, painless weekend spent in the last slices of a blazing September sun.
* also, these photos do the messes I encountered no justice. I'm just too vain to publish the reality of the state of things as they are. Plus, it could make me cry.