Tired

I'm tired. Last week, before the plague struck our home, I told Chris I seriously needed a little break. A day or two away from our beautiful children to regroup and refresh. As payment for uttering this fallacy out loud, the stomach flu from hell struck our family down one, by one. Instead of peace and rest, I was gifted with the smell of vomit stinging my nostrils. (I swear, even a week later, I swear! I can still smell it.)

And that brings us to today. Since Wednesday, Chris has been burning the midnight oil at work. He is gone before we get up in the morning and home after we are in bed. He will not be home until late tonight and is also tied up all day tomorrow. From morning 'til night, it's mommy time.

I am not sure I am going to make it. The acrobatic juggle of children, work, life, friends and family has left me spent. I do not have an ounce left to give. I feel utterly depleted. And I spend way too much time dreaming of me alone in a hotel room with nothing but a room service menu, a good book and silence.