The Nile

I know I say this almost every night – but what a bad fucking day today was. The worst part was that it started out so well. I had us all up and out without too much drama this morning. I thought for a Monday I was doing pretty well.

Then I got totally frazzled at work. There are so many things I am bad at that I am just frustrated with myself. I started to cry as I drove home. I just wanted to pick up the phone and call my husband. I wanted to talk to him and tell him about the day. I had funny stories to tell him that only he would truly appreciate. I miss being able to call him.

Then I had to deal with my true reality as I drove home and tried to compose myself as I returned phone calls. Then I forgot what day it was and what time I had to pick up my son. My friend called me ten minutes after I was supposed to be at school to tell me she grabbed him for me. As I ran up the street frazzled again, I just thought my mind is gone. Thankfully I have an amazing friend, and her brain works better than mine, and my baby didn’t have to sit in school, wondering where is mother was. In fact, he never even knew how I screwed up. I however, have been angry with myself since.

Then we were off to pick up my daughter and I rushed him to get to her school, only to realize I messed up the timing again and we were half an hour early.

I just sat in the car while he did his homework wanting to bang my head on the steering wheel. What is wrong with me? Why can’t I remember the simplest things anymore? Really, just what is wrong with me?

After we got home and I figured out what terrible meal was for dinner, I opened the mail. I dread opening the mail. Every single letter addressed to you is painful – every time I see your name it just hurts, each and every time. Today an AARP card came for you. Once upon a time I would laugh hysterically and would wait with anticipation for you to come home so I could hold it up and tease you for hours. Now I look at it and just cry. I tear it up into teeny tiny pieces but it doesn’t make me feel any better. I hate the mail.

I have a melt down after bath time and start to yell at the kids, but instead I leave the room and just cry in the bathroom till I have calmed down. The day has just taken a major toll on my patience and I get so frustrated with them, me and just everything.

After I tuck in my daughter into bed, I read with my son. His book tonight from school is called “Bill and Pete down the Nile.” Bill is a crocodile who learns about Egypt. Page two talks about how after the Pharaohs died they were buried in Pyramids and blah blah blah. My son stops reading and looks at me. “Is daddy’s body buried,” he asks?

Crap! Crap! Crap! Is what I am thinking. I tell him that daddy’s soul, the very special part of him that made him daddy is in heaven, but yes his body is buried in the ground. He looks at me with these huge brown eyes and whispers, “I want to go see him.”

I explain that you can’t see his body anymore, but we could go to where he is buried. The bile in my throat is rising at a rapid rate. “I want to go there,” he says “and then I want to dig him up and hug him.” He starts to cry and then of course I am crying.

The worst part for me is that I totally get my six year old son. All I want to do is dig him up and hug him as well. But I don’t say it. Instead I run to the bathroom and throw up.

My son is still crying as I sit down next to him and put my arms around him. He starts sobbing and says that he doesn’t want to die. I tell him he won’t die for a long, long time. “Well what if someone comes over and sticks a huge sword in my stomach?” He asks. I tell him that it just won’t happen. No one is going to stick him with a sword. (Thank you Peter Pan) Then he looks at me and says, “Does daddy’s body look like this?” He closes his eyes and sticks his tongue out. I actually start to laugh and say that it probably does look something like that. I keep laughing because I am afraid I will throw up again.

He stops his crying and I toss the book to the floor and suggest he go to bed now. I tuck him in and he asks to read a little more in bed. I find the nicest, simplest and least thought provoking book I can find. I hand him his flashlight and kiss him goodnight.

Fucking crocodiles going down the Nile – stupid mail – why can’t anything just be easy anymore?