Today didn’t start out very good. The boys came into my room and said, “We have no water.”
How can we have no water?
We had no water.
We apparently didn’t tell the water utility company that we were moving in and we needed water, so they turned it off. Not a big deal. We now have water. But this was the start of the day. We have lots of water now.
Especially my tears.
I haven’t cried this much since the day I pulled into the Jack In The Box and let the flood gates open the second week we were in the house. I thought I had been doing pretty good. I didn’t think this was coming today. But today Tukey whispered in my ear, “I don’t really like living here all that much.”
I know he has been sad. He has been coming into my room in the middle of the night.
“I can’t sleep,” or “It’s too hot,” or “I have a stomach ache.” These are the clues. I envisioned right away in my mind that we’ll give it a year and then OK, let’s move back to Chicago and make it all right again. Just get back to our regular Midwest lives with the people we know and love.
Everyone we feel comfortable around. People we can go to for help when the water is turned off, or when there’s a snake in the backyard, because right now, like for instance, when I called Mr. Manic to tell him the water wasn’t running, he started to say, “Call a neighbor” and then he stopped. Because guess what? We have one freaking god-send of a neighbor we can call to ask for help at this point. ONE. Thank God for them or we’d have NOBODY.
That’s a very lonely place to be.
For a family who used to have everyone they could call for help when they needed something or someone or a favor or help or a laugh or a ride or a Starbucks or a anything. And now we’ve got this godforsaken hotter than shit place and my kids are trying to be so brave and strong and they haven’t even met really anyone yet and next week I am shoving them off to another week of a camp that they don’t even want to go to because I think it will give them a place to make some friends for when school starts, and yes, I am feeling completely and utterly sad and sorry for myself at the moment and forgive me but this is my blog and usually I am cheery and upbeat but I don’t feel like being that way right now.
The kind of tears I’m crying right now are the ones that you try to hold back because you’re trying to be strong and you’re tired of being strong for everyone else and you know how you drag your tongue through your mouth to make your tears stop and then you also kind of make those whimper noises to stop the tears? Well, that’s what I’m doing now, and my nose is stuffy too, and my whole family is out there watching Everybody Hates Chris and I hope to God no one comes in and catches me crying. It’d be worse than if they came in and caught us Mushy Kissing.
OK, well, you see, I am already starting to feel a bit better by jamming all of these words out of my soul and onto this document so I’m just going to next have to share them with you. I am breathing a little bit better and I’ve stopped crying.
I am just worried about when school starts – who will sit by them at lunch? Will anyone bother to say hello to them? I’m scared for them, my children, who have been so brave to do this. They don’t even know how brave they are, and how proud I am of them, and see, now I am crying all over again. I just wish they knew how much I loved them and how I know how hard this must be for them, and I’m trying to make this experience exciting and fun for them, and I can see how it must be miserable for them because it’s so hot and there are no kids in the neighborhood right now, and I know fast-forwarding is not the answer, and I need to be thankful for what we have, which is a close-knit family who loves one another and we are blessed and they will find friends and they will be fine and all will be good, and this is just a blip in the scheme of things, but why do the blips have to hurt so darn much sometimes?