What day is it, again?
Back in May of 2012, I was sitting in the waiting room of the OB/GYN in Alabama. And I was filling out all the paperwork: medical history, personal history, how many times you sneezed the previous year, whether asparagus makes your pee stink, and other tough questions…like the names, ages, AND birthdays of all your children (who has the mental capacity, I ask you? No one with more than two children, I maintain…)…and also, they want to know LMP (gosh, do I really have to type this alllll the way out? ok…Last Menstrual Period)…so there I was, sitting in the waiting room, taking theeee most challenging test of my life. And, let me tell you, I was totally acing it. Knocking the ball out of the park. Killing it. And then, that menacing sheet of paper threw the curve ball: “Today’s Date ____________”.
I choked. I squirmed. I fidgeted. I finally eeked out the month and the day. But the YEAR. I totally could NOT remember the year. In May. In my mind, every single person in that waiting room was aware of my struggle. I was sure that they knew I didn’t know the year. Sure they were snickering at me. Surreptitiously, I leaned over to “look in my bag” but really check the display of my phone for the year. Because, you know, people NEVER check their phones in waiting rooms and it would have been totally obvious why I was doing just that. So there I was, leaning over my bag, and…my phone display wouldn’t even tell me the year! Day, month, and day of the week! I nearly cried!
(I know what you are thinking. You are thinking I am telling you one of those bad dreams in which we are frozen with fear over something stupid and, in our dreams, we can’t do a thing. Nope. This was my real life.)
You are not even going to guess what I did next. I took my smart phone out of my bag. I opened up the Internet. And I googled: “What year is it?” You are smart, so you DON’T know this…so I will tell you…if you google “What year is it?”, you will not get the answer you desperately need before you lose it and have a total breakdown in the waiting room of the OB/GYN. Not even Google took pity on my…let’s just call it pregnancy brain (which, yes, is why I was there).
I kid you not.
I finally had it narrowed down to 2011 or 2012. So I guessed. I had already switched into panic mode, so I can’t even remember which one I picked. If I picked the wrong one, I hope no one noticed. It didn’t occur to me, until an HOUR later, that I could have opened up the calendar app. (I’m not sure I even deserve to carry a phone called “smart”.)
The point of this whole little novella is to tell you that calendar skills are not my forte. I sorta have my head in the clouds all the time. I often don’t know what day it is. And if I ask you the time, I would really appreciate it if you tell me the time, day, day of the week, month, and YEAR…maybe even my own name. Por favor.
In my funny little world, I usually try to deflect awkward or sad or serious situations with humor. Sometimes this is good. And sometimes it’s not, because I cover, stuff, and hide how I am really feeling. And sometimes it’s even more bad, because I cover, stuff, and hide to the point that I can’t emote anymore. I begin to retreat into my mind, interacting with others only superficially. I sit and stare at my screen, with my fingers hovering over the keyboard, unable to express a thing. Not a goldurned thing. Right now I’m stuck in the middle of this inability to express. But Glennon broke through today, and, so I will try, too.
There are big things that are contributing to this silence. More than I can begin to unpack here. And little things, too. It’s November. We’ve been lucky with sunny days this fall, but the chill and gloom are creeping in, and I can almost see a little Vitamin D meter hovering over my head (like I am a Sims figure) with a diminishing level. The boys are boundless balls of energy in a small space. Liam is challenging me daily to hone my skills in self-discipline and authority. Most days I feel like I get stamped with a big “parenting fail”. I’m thinking maybe there is something about this time of the year that brings up feelings of inadequacy, though, because Rachel had a beautiful post here (along with more thoughts here that had me nodding along, sing-it-sister style), and Susan had powerful reflections here, and I know it’s not just me, because Laura mentioned both those posts here and Bonnie called to mind this picture:
Amelie is teething, perpetually, and sleeping restlessly. Which means I am sleeping restlessly. Combine that with my husband’s new job (I know! I didn’t tell you!) which is such a blessing! But…new schedules are hard to adjust to! And this particular schedule is making it really hard to even pencil in any sanity time…or even time to pee in peace. And I thought that I would do NaNoWriMo. Because I have so much I need to say. But this:
Anyhow, there is really no more point to this post than to break the silence and re-engage. To encourage myself to not disappear into myself quite so much, and to ask for encouragement and prayers from this online space community that I love so much.
Incidentally, this whole post came to fruition because I sat down to try, again, to type. In desperation I thought, “Maybe a link-up will help.” But then I couldn’t remember the day. And what link up would be happening. Which led to…all the above…
It feels good to start somewhere.
PS — I figured out that it is Thursday. I think. Or maybe Friday. Hang on, lemme check my phone.