As for the rest, I'm blaming it on the Polar Vortex. I know it's not a new weather phenomenon, but it practically killed my spirit for nigh on 3 months.
Because there was just. so. darn. much! of this:
When I used to hear older ladies talk about their "nerves" or how so-and-so had "bad nerves," I would think that it was a mostly imagined problem. I am now apologizing to those ladies. They know what's up because "nerves" is a totally legitimate medical condition. And mine just about snapped this winter.
Have you ever had one of those days where you are utterly depleted? Where every nerve ending and sensory receptor in your brain is screaming "Danger!! Overload!!" Where you are touched-out and asked-out and yelled-out and whined-out and cried-out, and if you don't find a dark corner in which to retreat you will ab-so-lutely lose . . . your . . . mind.
This winter was weeks made up of those days.
It's completely dramatic to say I had a nervous breakdown, so I'll just say that even my confessor told me to go on vacation. He said that I should call it a "mother's retreat."
He did not tell me to take a "nerve pill," as the sweet old ladies called them when we lived down south, but I probably could have used one of them, whatever they are.
And listen, I was not the only one considering self-medicating until spring found me. Even the kids started to get strung out.
|Yes, that is my baby raiding my brother's alcohol cabinet. |
At least he chose some good Scotch to honor his heritage.
But thank the good Lord that even the most bitter winters do not last forever and must eventually give way to the gentler touch of spring. Snow turns to rain, and the way I feel today is not the way I will feel forever.
And even during the depths of winter, we managed to find good things:
|Victory! Too bad they didn't have a flag to plant on top|
of the mountain of snow on the mailbox.
|Not much gets this girl down. Not even snow drifts twice her height.|
|Driving the aisles|
|This kid . . . |
oh, man, am I in so much trouble.
|I ran my first 5K in 12 years last weekend.|
See that behind me? That's called green grass.
It's Laetare Sunday, a day to rejoice because we are halfway through Lent and the winter's behind us.
I'm ready for that, my friends.