Dear Universe

I’m not one for doing the whole ‘why me’ malarky because quite frankly it gets you nowhere further than deeper into your pity party hole. But when you throw a morning like this morning at someone who is already trying to get her shit together, well, you just plain suck.

Today’s plan*:
Drop boys at school
Drop little boys at daycare
Drop car at Chef’s work, pick up other car (so he could pick little boys up from daycare on his way home)
Go to movies
Come home, read blogs, relax, maybe make dinner
Pick boys up from school

Today’s reality:
4.18am – Jasper comes into our bed.
4.19 – 4.35am – Lie in bed freaking out about the world and trying to breath, medidate and all that other crazy shit rather than take a pill.
4.36am – Put Oscar back to bed and sit with him as I try to convince him that no, 4.35am is not a good time to start his day.
4.49am – Back into bed. Skin feels hot on my limbs, just under the top layer of skin. Has felt like this for over a week. Breath through latest panic attack.
4.50 – 5.44am – Lie in bed concentrating on not freaking out at the world. Can feel my body just starting to relax.
5.45am – Chef’s alarm goes off, he showers, Oscar is up, Grover is crying.
6am – Get up. Take Zoloft. No difference in mindset. Pissed off no instant state of zen achieved.
6.15am – Jitters return. All children up. We’re watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I want to live in that house on the hill.
6.16am – 8.29am – breakfast, children dressed, notes signed, cheques written, lunches made, bags packed. All done in a calm, orderly manner.
8.30am – everyone is in the car and we are on the school run. I thank everyone for such a lovely morning.
8.31am – as I back out of driveway think, ‘the car feel funny’ – put it down to my general state of mind-fuckedness.
8.32am – drive a block down the road and think, ‘no, something is really wrong’ and pull over.
8.32.15am – front passenger tyre completely flat.
8.33am – call roadside assist. Speak to very lovely man who says someone will be there in 25 minutes.
8.35am-9.10 – Wait. Boys play footy on the footpath. It starts to rain.
9.20 – Oscar goes running for ball, trips over own feet, is propelled through the air, over the gutter, hits the road with his nose, then forehead, then stomach. Jasper screaming runs onto road because the ball is on the road. Felix says, ‘that must have hurt’. Oscar panics. Jumps up, starts randomly running and hyperventilating and crying and can’t get a breath due to being winded from landing on his stomach.
9.20.30am – Parents dropping children at local kindy on opposite corner to where we have stopped, stare aghast, help with getting Jasper off the road.
9.21 – examine Oscar. End of his nose completely grazed. Forehead all grazed. Nose swollen and already blackening.
9.22 – man calls to say he is on approach.
9.25 – man arrives, changes tyre while I tend to Oscar. Am fairly convinced his nose is broken.
9.45 – we are back on the road. Drop Felix at school, take him to office, sign late slip, back in car to whimpering Oscar, Jasper and Grover.
9.50 – arrive at emergency department of hospital.
9.50 – 12.40pm – at hospital. Nose is fractured.


*I’m taking some time off work to get my shit together and cut me some slack.