Friday, September 4, 2009

Stella must have my groove


You heard me, bleh!

I just can not seem to get it going today, or really any day lately. In the past couple of weeks I have stepped it back up. Actually doing (most of) my Motivated Moms chores and cooking dinner every night. But the heart ain't in it. I am having trouble settling in here. Things up in flux still, in so many ways, and we haven't found those routines that make our days pleasant or at least filled. The girls are brimming with discontent and Desmonda is especially at odds with the world, wandering around the house doing the toddler version of wringing her hands.

Now it is four thirty and my husband will soon be taking his leave of work. He will call and I will scramble because I feel guilty that things are not quite the way they should be and the girls are watching their fourth episode of the day and I broke down and turned the AC back on. All though I don't think any of the above bothers him that much (maybe just a little) I still feel bad that the day has not quite lived up to the rosy vision I had. That at the corners of the picture, the paint is fading and the paper is crumbling. Still, Not feeling bad enough to not ask him to bring dinner, gyros. Yum!

The next few weeks will be bustling with activity as the girls and I and the husband head off to my hometown to shower my sister. And then the girls and I will stay and I will have loads of free time before winging off to see my dear Minnesota moms. Yet I know I will wring my hands over all the things I should be doing and the girls' therapy they should be having. And the delay in finding those groups and classes and storytimes and schools and a house to live in and all the rest.

Yes, I really must hunt that groove down.

For now though, I will drink my tea and waste some minutes before I jump back up and straighten frantically. And then drive to the store to procure weekend picnic and grilling supplies. Then clean up our home before my lovely SIL and my favoritest nephew and niece arrive.

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