Tuesday, February 11, 2020

{scheduling rest}

Resting with Hazel. She was sort of wound up, so it took awhile. She's tucked beside me, snoozing away, with a pile of stuffed animals piled on top of her. Pretty much perfect. 

Woke up feeling frazzled. The events of Sunday through yesterday...no drama, but little downtime, weighed on me. My brain had been whirring. Just needed to get off this merry-go-round I feel I've been riding the last month. 

Gosh, just hard to find level ground. 

I spent an hour or so, last night after dinner, tidying up. Folded clothes, cleaned the kitchen, changed out the tablecloth, even vacuumed. Needed order. As I've said before, if my nest is fairly straight, then my mind tends to follow. 

Used to, my husband didn't so much understand my moods. He'd ask what happened, and I'd answer, just life. Nothing so much happens in an instant, but too much happens one thing after another. He thrives on being busy, but too much of that and I crumble. 

And sometimes I get to a place where I'm tired of caring for others. I have a friend at church whose husband had his last chemo/radiation treatments for colon cancer today. He's doing very well, looks like he'll beat it, but several weeks ago, she said with tears in her eyes that she was just tired of taking care of folks. Her kids, her husband, her job as a nurse. I get it, though not to her extent with his illness. 

One of the sweetest comments anyone has said to me in the last month, she (an long-time blogging friend) being privey to some family dynamics I've not made public...she said she thought we'd been through a lot lately. Too much. To have her recognize it, to not scold, but say, man, that's a lot, meant the world to me. 

We pile it on ourselves. We allow more to be piled on, then we ask what's wrong. We seem to lack the ability to say no, thinking we can keep abusing ourselves. 

It's not fun anymore. 

So tomorrow, I'll wake up, let out the chickens, then go back to bed. Have my tea, do minimal schoolwork with the least one, take youngest son to work, and that's it. Might sound busy, but it's mindless stuff. At some point, I'll sit at my desk and paint. It's been too long. 

Reset my mood. Time to feed my parched soul.