Not my favorite weekend

This weekend has not been my favorite. It started on Thursday. I took Brooks to the ear doctor. He agreed that my boy needs tubes, probably should have had them sooner. I told him my fears, all about Jeffrey, all the ear infections he had, where we are now. So he thought we should maybe do a hearing test, just to be on the safe side. So we did. And we waited. And the doctor came back. Turns out he does not hear so well. He said it like that. So casual. I almost started to cry, right there. He just smiled at me. It's normal, he said. His ears are full of fluid. It will go away, only in rare occasions is it permanent. He didn't seem to understand. We are that rare occasion. And he could reassure me all he wanted. I didn't feel any better. It makes my stomach hurt just to think about it. So I try not to.

On Friday Jeff left for India. Yes, India. It seems very far away. That afternoon Brooks and Paige had total meltdown. At the same time. They both fell asleep and woke up crying. We were trying to get ready to go to our ward luau and they just sat there crying. Brooks cried for almost 2 hours. There was nothing I could do. I held him, I put him down, I fed him. Nothing. That kind of crying is unnerving. I was on the verge by the time we left. The luau was better. There were all sorts of distractions. And friends. My friends, my kids friends. It saved me.

So I thought today had to be better. I woke up early, got Brooks and Paige ready, and headed to the gym. I'm not sure what it was, I was tired. The end of the week kind of tired, not on my game. And with 15 minutes left in my class, I stepped wrong and rolled my ankle. AGAIN! Seriously. I should have been embarrassed, I fell in front of everyone there. But it never even occurred to me. I was just mad. Mad that I wanted to cry. Mad that I was going to have to deal with a sprained ankle. Mad that it happened while Jeff is out of town. Mad that something always seems to happen when I am in a good routine. Mad that we are going on a ski trip in 2 weeks. Just mad. So I came home and cried. Nobody even noticed. But a good cry always makes me feel better. And it did.

At least for a few minutes. Until this really started hurting. And then I was just mad again.