I have a cold. I know, no big deal. Technically, it’s not even that bad of a cold. But I haven’t had a cold for years. And it’s coming on the heels of a prolonged period of funk.

My husband is off from work today. It’s what we refer to as RDOs (required days off) or what you might call a weekend. He works six days on, three days off so for him, the weekend is a constantly moving target. Knowing that last night when I went to bed, I took a Nyquil and entrusted him with the first part of the morning routine in case I overslept. I should have taken two (which is the recommended dose). I woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep. But, like promised, my husband set his alarm and hopped up to get the morning routine rolling. When the first kid looked in and saw me still in bed, he asked, “Are you sick?” Me still in bed threw him for a loop. I reported to him that I was fine, just waking up easy after the Nyquil.

I really am fine. After caring for such sick children just before Christmas—one with Influenza A+B and one with a horrible respiratory virus that included four days of high fevers and such a productive and relentless cough it led to vomiting on more than one occasion—I am technically barely even under the weather.

But I am hopeful it’s figuratively a little more than just a cold. I am hoping it’s the capstone, the bookend, the final ‘dammit’ and finally the end of a funk that has been hanging over my mood since our return from vacation in mid January.

I don’t know what my problem is. Maybe winter blues; maybe it’s hormones. My best guess is it’s a little bit of both. But whatever it is, I am ready for it to leave.

On Saturday, I was driving Sam to a pre-dawn hockey game and I found myself wishing we were on our way to someplace new. It was dark and quiet; the road was empty just like it was when we left for all of our vacations over the past year. I am longing for those good, warm times full of adventure and laughs.

That need to flee has been hanging around. I want us to all run away together. I need something to look forward to, something to yearn for. But instead, right now I feel like nothing is holding my attention.

It’s been a one-woman pity party around here. I have felt like the sole survivor on an island—everything has been happening around me. I have been turning the crank for everyone else’s machine to operate but mine has been left idle, taken out of service and left to rust.

I know. Boo hoo me. But, sometimes it just is what it is. The feeling of being last on the list around here has persisted. My feelings not considered, my efforts going overlooked, and my continued commitment to all things “our family” ignored. It’s not that I don’t know they love me, it’s that they are all busy with their own stuff and sort of ignore me.

Seriously, I keep wanting to yell like a child, “What about me?” and maybe even stomp my foot a bit. And don’t comment that you care about my feelings or you are not ignoring me…comment and tell me you have felt this way too, that I am not alone in feeling like this. I am not, right?

And, I know it’s my own fault. I am responsible for my own behavior and that others only treat me the way I asked or allow for myself to be treated. Time to demand more. More respect, more gratitude, more acknowledgement. Time to put myself back in the driver’s seat and take control.

So this is it. First, I am giving myself something to look forward to. The first day of Spring: 44 days away. And I am setting a goal: log 1,100 miles on my feet during those 44 days.

Goodbye dark funk. Hello countdown to Spring.


One Thought on “44 Days and 1,100 miles

  1. Donna DeArmond on February 4, 2015 at 9:20 pm said:

    Tell Jeff and all three of the boys, that Aunt Donna said to start treating you like a QUEEN, or I will come and do something to them. You are the only lady of the house and you need to be treated differently. By the way, I love my Angel. It comes on at 4:00 and goes off at 8:00. It is on now and is so pretty.

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