The closer we come to leaving here the harder it is for me to get out of bed in the morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a morning person on a good day but habit/kids/need to pee usually has me up and running by 8 at the latest. Okay 9.
I am having a hard time. Family seems to make me feel better, Jason makes me feel better, but as soon as we start looking at houses in Vegas and talking about the logistics of our life I get panicky. That and the fact that all of our homes are currently up in the air: Trying to sell our Layton house, trying to find another renter for our German house (the guy was a total snarf bag), trying to find a place to live in Las Vegas that doesn’t have a school rating of 2. All of these things chase me under my covers and keep me from putting on a bra, makeup or contacts.
I don’t do well when I feel anxious AND ugly. Part of my anxiety could also be due to the wild diet pills I started taking this week but I’ve got to do something besides yoga. Honestly though, my weight gain and loss is at the bottom of my priority list right now. I just need to get through this summer still smiling.
Jason informed me that he’s scheduled to leave for training on Aug 17th and our household goods will arrive on August 22nd. I don’t know who is going to move boxes for me or help me hang things or figure out how to shift the couches around. Everything about Las Vegas makes me upset. I keep telling myself that I can do this, it’s not going to be as hard as our shift to Germany was. I can think of a few friends who live there and will probably be willing to come help me but even that feels distant and hypothetical.
I’m not the only one struggling in my family. Little Rex’s food anxiety is at an all time high. He’s going to be 9 this month and I’ve got to say, I’m about done with his finicky eating. Last night we made bean burritos for all the grandkids. Bean burritos, people. Beans, cheese, tortilla. Can I hear a Taco Bell? Rex has eaten bean burritos hundreds of times, it’s supposed to be on the short list of “food Rex will eat.” The night before we had a big episode over his unwillingness to try the stroganoff and he missed out on dinner and ice cream because he wouldn’t even take one tiny bite. The kid was practically curled up in the fetal position by the time dinner was over. What the heck?
Last night he did the exact same thing. It might have brought out the Ms. Hannigan in me and I might have seriously threatened to take his birthday away. I told him that if he couldn’t eat that burrito then he wasn’t ready to turn 9. Birthdays are a really big deal to Rex. But even that pressure didn’t pry his mouth open long enough to even taste his plain old burrito. So I did what any good parent would do and revoked all birthday privileges and told him to go sit in the car until it was time to leave. Cause that’s obviously the best way to handle a kid who’s having an anxiety attack.
Twenty minutes later Jason and the boys came into the kitchen with Rex flanked by his dad and brother who were both holding his hands. Poor Rexy, his face was puffy from tears and I could see that they’d been working with him. Is it bad to say I didn’t feel bad for him? I crossed my arms and moved out of the way. Jason quickly made him a new burrito and cut it in thirds while I watched. They sat down like some kind of support group and Harrison put his hand on Rex’s shoulder.
“Trust your heart,” he whispered to Rex, patting his shoulder and cheering him on. Don’t ask me what the heart had to do with eating a bean burrito but I stood to the side and watched my sons make it through this trial with love and teamwork and random heart logic, something I hadn’t been willing to think of. By the time Rex was done the burrito wedge had been eaten and my boys were fist bumping and hugging like Rex had just walked a tight rope over a ravine.
Maybe that’s all I need to do right now. Trust my heart and let my little family support me through this trial. I do feel better just sitting and writing it out. I might be able to go put some lipstick on after all.