Today is going to be tough.
Hubby left at 6AM to drive to our small capital city to present his case to the licensing board, trying to convince them that the hoops they are making him jump through are not only ridiculous but a potential disaster for our family. Hubby's boss has, out of the blue, decided to change the way she pays him and it has essentially cut his pay in half.
In the very early hours of this morning after I was awoken by a suddenly seemingly mile-long toddler son thrashing his arms and legs in the calm waters of my sleep, I lay awake trying to breathe. I was obsessively writing blog posts in my head. Ally McBeal-esque record needles screeching to silence were somehow included in a paragraph about my life baking fragrant bread in my gleaming kitchen and folding my children's crisp white clothing.
Another was post was about my carpenter friend, who although he works extremely long and hard hours at his own business, the $1,000 it would take to insure his small family is beyond reach. Today, having come down with strep throat he has to resort to over-the-counter meds or even asking a nurse friend to "acquire" samples of antibiotics from her office. My anger at those who don't think we need insurance reform rose into my chest and sat there squeezing my lungs.
And then I was back thinking of the effects a 50% drop in income is going to have on this family over the next couple of months. And my chest heaved and began to implode.
I am so angry at Hubby's boss I alternate between visions of storming into her office and spitting my anger in her face and sitting there dripping in tears and snot as I tell her how her random "effective as of August 1st" means the difference between us paying our next mortgage payment and not. Meanwhile she is paying her husband to lay down a marble patio in the back of their office.
I left my job to leisurely pursue my own dreams because Hubby was supporting us so well. Now, my new enterprise, suffering the normal pains of anything young and growing, is feeling pressure to perform, well and now. Another workshop has been canceled for this weekend due to potential attendee's last minute summer activities and surgeries.
And the car. It is 10 years old. The muffler is going, the check engine light is always on. It is our only means of transportation. The fact that Hubby is driving over a mountain and back today in a car which hiccups and burns oil doesn't help my attempts to catch a breath. Broken car, no health insurance... I can't follow this train of thought.
When I do finally drift back to sleep it is a fitful one. Hubby's kiss goodbye and my mumbled "good luck" just falls in with the panicked ramblings of my subconscious. An hour later I am unceremoniously woken by the cries of Poop, Mama! Its falling out! With eyes barely open and bladder full, I find myself cleaning butts and toilet bowls. Then it's onto breakfast sloped down the clean shirt, new tap shoes on wood floors, moooorrreee ceee-re- al! from one child before I've even had a chance to pour the milk for the other child. And my coffee? Ha!
My whole body is a trembling mass of frog eggs. Every whine from Tator shakes my brain, I feel faint when I stand, and if it wasn't for PBS this morning my next post might just be written from inside the residential therapeutic community where I taught last night.
I have been trying to stay very positive. I am a positive person when it comes to life's potential disasters. And we have always made it. We have been here before. When we owned two apartment buildings and the management company decided to no longer rent out our apartments without informing us (we were 2000 miles away) I had a miscarriage from the stress of coming that close to bankruptcy. We lost thousands of dollars when we sold our starter home. But we made it through. We are now both doing what we love, we have a beautiful home, we have family near by. We were finally financially comfortable (meaning we could pay our bills, keep a full pantry and splurge on the occasional latte). And then, WHAM!
Today it has just all caught up with me. All my it'll be oks are taking a licking when I look at my bank balance. The potential of my business is great as are the collaborative ideas Hubby and I are working on. On that I am trying to focus, but its hard, so hard.
Thinking positively is positively impossible when you can't breathe.
Today is going to be tough.