Wild and Crazy

I haven’t written for a while because I’ve been so tired. Pretty pitiful, huh? What do I have to be tired about? It’s not like I’m chasing after a toddler or having to quiet a baby who cries all day. But, listen, Mary was taking a nap the other day and I recognized this feeling. It was something I hadn’t felt for a while and didn’t immediately think to put a name to it, but I recognized it from other times when Mary had taken a long nap (which doesn’t happen too often). It was the wild and exhilarating feeling of freedom. And how did that feeling exhibit itself? I felt wild and crazy, like I could… like I could go do the laundry, wash the kitchen floor, vacuum (no, that would wake her up), bake some bread! What?! Shouldn’t I be fantasizing about… about… I don’t know, something wild and crazy? Something I never get to do? No, I was dreaming about what I never get to do carelessly. No wonder I get tired. I have to keep my eye on Mary all the time. And if I don’t, which I don’t, then there’s this little worry sitting on my shoulders. If I’m downstairs doing the laundry, either I’m constantly listening for sounds of her getting up or, heaven forbid, falling—a sound, unfortunately, that I’ve heard often enough to recognize instantly—or I forget to listen and then have to contend with the guilt of having forgotten. And why shouldn’t I be tired when I often only get to sleep for two hours at a time? Yes, she often, lately, has nights when she gets up to use the potty every two hours.

Sorry, I don’t mean to be complaining. I’m probably just trying to justify to myself why I feel so tired. And I’m also contending with a migraine. I took something for it and it went away, but it’s back. And I know from experience that if I go to sleep with it, I can sleep, but I’ll wake up with it the next morning. And I’m feeling nauseous. That’s something that’ll put anyone in a bad mood. Good thing Mary’s already in bed. Oh, I knew using the computer would probably make it worse. But I hadn’t written for so long…. I wanted to talk about what we’ve been doing. Mary had her second cataract operation yesterday. Now I have to contend with her seeing far away better without her glasses but not being able to read without them. She doesn’t remember that she had an operation. So I have to explain again and again. Hm. That’s enough to give anyone a migraine! No, seriously, I’d love to know what caused this one. Not enough sleep? Soy sauce at dinner? Tension? Sore feet soles? What?!

Alright. This is bad timing. Everyone has bad days. The next time will be better. Promise.

PS—I have to remember to tell you about meals, Harry Potter’s birthday, and Christmas presents.