So, I was down for a forty-five minute nap this afternoon when Squish climbed into bed. She had a headache and was trembly and...
And it's week six.
I didn't even have to do the math.
Week six, the marking week of the most stressed, the most exhausted, the most strung out and wrecked that you will be after any major life change including starting school, is here.
Have a baby? Week six will be when you go to the market with mismatched shoes and a shirt inside out, and then attempt to run the baby's carseat through the market checkout.
Changing jobs? Week six will be the when you need to be physically restrained from calling your old job and begging for a position cleaning toilets for the condescending prick that caused you to run away in the first place.
Going to school, playing soccer, participating in dance?
Week six will be when something's gotta give.
We skipped dance. She slept a little. I watched an entire episode of television un-interupted--and I knitted.
It's Birthday Week, we're doing some other stuff right now, I'm under a deadline, the kids are exhausted, it's here.
It's arrived.
It's week six.
A nap and a missed activity is the only way to go.
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