I woke up this morning wanting to write a poem about hope. Woke up with this idea flitting around the edges of my mind, something about hope not being as fragile as it seems.
But I woke up too with a cold gunking up my throat and fuzzing up my brain so the thoughts were having trouble getting together in any coherent fashion.
Also my son woke up with all kinds of pain in his mouth from the braces put on his lower teeth yesterday afternoon so I served him cereal and Advil for breakfast. And I ended up taking the kids to school in two shifts: first the girl, who was ready on time, then back to get the boy, who got in the shower but forgot to get back out and was therefore all kinds of tardy. Though I couldn’t blame him (after the initial anger flash) because I suspect the shower felt really good and the Advil likely kicked in partway through and he probably was just basking in the respite from the pain.
Later in the morning, I set out to complete multiple online forms I need to do before tomorrow. And I’m still trying to fill them out, because the technology has thwarted me at every turn even though it’s supposed to be easier than filling out forms on paper.
I expect around lunchtime that I’ll need to make a run to the school to deliver more Advil to the boy. And while I’m out I’ll try to get my fuzzy brain to remember to run the other errands on my list.
I’ll pick up the girl from school, and then the boy from band practice. I will give them after school snacks and homework help and listen to stories from their day.
The hubs will come home later from work, and that will be good, but I’ll probably have to drag him into my tech vortex at some point, which is pretty much the opposite of romantic.
I’ll make it through dinner and the kids’ bedtime. And then climb into bed myself.
And tomorrow I’ll probably wake up wanting to write a poem about hope.