Blame it on the rain....

yeah yeah
You can blame it on the rain
 Ooh, ooh (ooh)
I can't, I can't. I can't, can't stand the rain
I can't, I can't. I can't, can't stand the rain
Yeah, yeah

I'm dating myself with this totally 80's reference to Milli Vanillli but that's what happens when it rains for what 12 straight days! Holy High Waters Batman.

It would be nice to blame my lack of interest in reading, writing, cleaning, and organizing on the rain but this has been since January. Surprise? It's not that I haven't dealt with the surgery and all that surrounded it, it's just that it left me foggy for quite a while, and tired.  And then I was playing catch-up, and then I was just in the weeds, now I'm not even on the field.  I'm totally sitting on the sidelines.  I've given up. I'm just an observer.

I look at my life and my family and I am grateful and happy and know that I should get back in the game, but it just seems like so much work.  I'm not afraid of hard work though, in fact the opposite is true, I love that sense of accomplishment in making a list and checking things off.  Perhaps it is because there is one list - and I check it off over and over and over again.

Laundry
Cleaning
Grocery
Cooking
drive the kids to sports
entertain the kid who's not playing the sport
scream everyone into a shower
wrestle them into bed and spend quality time with husband (or vise versa)

Since my surgery in January I have been determined to make time for myself and do things for myself no matter what the "push back" is...it's harder than I thought.  Over vacation I kept wondering why we sounded like the Bitchinstein Family and then it hit me.  Maybe I'd actually changed.  Not drastically, but a subtle change in what I will and won't do for them, what I will and won't accept, and in what I am doing for myself.  And they have all just figured it out.

All this time I've been so hard on myself that everything and everyone is falling apart and it's all my fault, which, well, it kinda of is.  But given some more time we'll all figure it out.  Meanwhile, I am going to keep writing this blog even though there are now three boys standing behind me waiting for me finish.  Hold you horses men, mamma's gotta get her groove back.