a summer sky will hopefully
twotothreeweekstwotothreeweekstwotothreeweeks lift the heaviness and calm the shaking hands and deepen the breath. Hopefully it will all stop. You know the feeling. Wanting to stay in bed and stare at the wall because you can't imagine getting through the day carrying this heaviness in your chest. Wanting to sleep because it's the only thing that brings relief. Knowing that if you weren't a MOTHER that's exactly where you'd be... in bed, checked out. But since you are a mother, you get up and get them fed and entertained and bathed maybe and keep some semblance of a clean house barely and you clench your jaw till your teeth and head ache and take a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other and make it through TWO boy birthday parties in 6 days aloneonyourown and try to bring a day's worth of happiness to two beautiful boys who deserve SO MUCH BETTER than what they've received this year. And you go to work because you have to and usually this place brings relief or at least a distraction. A place where personal worries can be left in the parking lot with the minivan and you can spend 12 hours focusing on other mamas and their children and maybe even be moved to smile at the goofy toddler or marvel at the 4 day old or feel thankful when you receive a look of gratitude from the worried mother of an ill child because even if you try to leave your own worries out with the minivan, today you're not able to leave the heaviness behind. You wear it like the clothes on your back for all to see Michelle you look so sad and you wait for the pills to kick in.