Mom's shouldn't be allowed to get sick

Or maybe I should title this...Don't Cry Over No Milk.

I felt it coming on for a few days, the sore throat and runny nose. But I ignored it, took my vitamins vigilantly and attempted to get enough rest. Both girls were sick all last week with a cough and a cold - so sleeping through the night was nonexistent. Thursday morning there was no denying it was here, and by Thursday afternoon I could barely make it to the evening. Friday I felt terrible. I HATE being sick.

So while working from home Friday, when I went downstairs during lunch time to find out what all the hub bub was about between Lily and Sabine, I found out that we were out of milk. And butter. And bread. Sabine didn't realize this before she made Lily her wish of Mac n Chz. So Addie was sitting there happily with her milk-free mac noodles and ketchup (gross I know but she LOVES it), and Lily was crying on the stairs being mean to Sabine that there was no milk. FINALLY after I reasoned with her (and figured out that the milk problem was about actual lunch and not just her wantign a glass of it to drink), she decided she would accept a PB&J instead...oh but there was no bread either. Crap. Crap. Crap Crap.

This should not have been a big deal. Lawrence was running to the store that afternoon to get some staples and dinner supplies for the week. My brother left that morning after staying for a night passing through to see the girls, so Lily was particularly sensitive, and really, to her, it was the end of the world that there was no milk. And every time she pulled it together, she would look at my with her big brown eyes welling with tears. "But Mama, why don't we have any milk? I really need some milk" voice cracking and falling apart.

If I were a rational person, I probably would have just run out (in my pjs with no bra and unbrushed teeth or hair nose dripping-hugely pregnant state) and got the milk, so life could have gone on. But instead, I sympathized with Lily, comforted her, and finally sent her to her room until she could pull it together because she could not stop whining about the milk situation - and I couldn't help her. As I dug in the fridge, I coulnd't find anything else for her to have for lunch either, and she needed to leave for school in a half hour. Sabine finally remembered that we had some of Addie's milk free bread, which at $4/loaf is normally off limits to the rest of the family, we made Lily a PB&J using that, and then I gave her my water bottle with Lemon Sustain powder in it as her special drink. All was okay.

I apologized to Sabine that there was no food in the house and went back upstairs to work.

But instead of working...I. Fell. Apart.

I cried and cried at what a failure of a mom I was that we didn't have enough food. I cried because the State of Oregon Unemployment department are assholes. I cried because hormones are raging through my body and even though it wasn't rational, I couldn't stop crying for hours. Was there enough money in the account for milk and bread and butter? Of course there was. Did that matter? Not to me. For some reason, not having enough food equaled complete failure and demise of the family. So not rational, but unless you have been broke and pregnant at the same time - you may not judge. Even after Lawrence got back from the store and the fridge was full again, I would start to cry again each time I thought of our state of milklessness that morning. I felt sorry for Sabine for getting such a terrible family to live with. One that would allow all the milk to be drank. I cried again. And again. Every time I thought about it. More tears.

My friend Carrie suggested maybe I skip Women of Faith, which I had a free ticket to that night. She thought I needed rest, and I didn't consider it because I knew I needed the "me" time to be uplifted and encouraged and drug out of my deep dark hole of not having milk in the house.

For the rest of the weekend my voice and head was so stuffed up, mostly because of the cold but the 4 straight hours of crying couldn't have helped. I went to WOF that night, but looked like I had been beaten up from all the tears and nose blowing. I went in a brown velour jogging suit/hoodie outfit, so I really dressed up for the occasion. It said to wear comfortable clothes on the website, and I was so numb from all the crying, I couldn't bare to put on a piece of clothing that restricted me in any way. Unfortunately there was a bomb threat and the Rose Garden was evacuated and shut down - before I even got in the door. I didn't really even mind, just a little disappointed and I was happy to get home early and up bright and early and go again on Saturday morning. The day was amazing. I was uplifted and encouraged. My mom was at our house with Lawrence, he and the girls had a WONDERFUL day everyone with great behavior. And while I drove home Saturday evening and I thought about "that time that I had fallen apart over milk" it seemed like a million years ago, not yesterday. I even smiled about it - back when I was so crazy and hormonal that I even cried about not having bread and butter! HA! That girl...(insert head shake and eye roll).

I have to be thankful for two of my friends who "got" me, Jeanine and Carrie. I know they both felt helpless and a little worried but they got me. And to my husband and my mother in law, who did not really get me, I'm thankful that they both helped me too. They were there for me, and they comforted me as best as they could, Lawrence - not sure why it even bothered me because he was going to the store in a minute? and my MIL not sure if we were really THAT broke - and could she send me money to buy milk? or what? How could I be helped?

Sometimes when the damn breaks and the flood gate of emotions come...you just have to go with it. You have to allow yourself to feel that something is the end of the world, even though it isn't. You have to look deep within yourself and understand why a silly little thing equals failure to you. And then you have to look back and smile and love yourself that you care so much about a silly little thing. And if you are really really lucky, you will smile and look back only a few days later. If the perfect storm is brewing in your emotional life, a good cry is the only thing that helps.

This weekend God reminded me that he doesn't love me because I'm perfect, he loves me because I'm me. He wants me to let go of these problems to show that He is bigger than anything I could ever worry about. He has plans for me that I can't begin to imagine, and He will not allow me to starve! In being reminded (again!) of His love, I looked at my life around me and saw how many other people love me with the same kind of love that God has for us. People who love me not in spite of my weaknesses - but because of them. Those are the people who model God's love for us here on earth. The people that are your safe place, who will not judge for your failings, no matter how silly or large they may be.

To the people who love me because I cry over no milk, I am thankful.