One half of an hour

My son had his tonsils, adenoids removed.  Just recently my daughter started Kindergarten.  My son switched to a new daycare.  My husband changed jobs a few months ago.  I got pregnant.  Then I lost the baby.  Then I really lost a baby and spent three days in the hospital and several weeks in recovery.  Then my son dislocated his elbow.   And now my dog of 10 years has a lump on his shoulder the size of my fist.

I ask you.  Don’t I ever get a fucking break?

The answer (in case you don’t have it ready as you recover from my list of woe) is YES!

Yes, I do get a break!

In fact I get a full 1/2 hour a day.  30 minutes where I get to be ALONE IN MY HOUSE.

And then, I drive in the car for another 1/2 hour in the car by myself (not nearly as cool but still worth mentioning).  And I LOVE IT.  It’s pathetic how much I love it.

Tragically pathetic really.

But it is good.

And while part of my wonders if how I can handle another loss, the other part of me enjoys throwing a ball in the backyard for my boys for the first time in years during my one half hour.


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