The haze is lifting and I'm back at my keyboard, coffeejuice in hand, and all is right with the world.
I couldn't think clearly let alone string words together to express a thought and don't get me started on my grammar and spelling! I was in over my head, befuddled and nearing a permanent oatmeal brain state. My memory was like a sieve, words were disappearing from my vocabulary and simple math may as well have been calculus.
It was rough going there for a while but the fog is lifting. I can think now. I can spell. My words are returning. I can add AND subtract and even do a little multiplication when there's a need. I can read books, not just flyers. I remember things and I have an attention span longer than that of a toddler's so things are looking up.
I couldn't wait to be clear enough to be here; I've missed it. I've missed sharing my thoughts and hearing from all of you. I've missed being A Normal Mom. Dare I say, I have missed the regular routine of driving the kids around, making dinner and helping with homework. I have missed being Mr. Awesome's partner and not only a patient. I have missed my life.
I knew that things were returning to normal, that my kids saw me as A Normal Mom again, yesterday. I had declared it a sleep-in day and had threatened all kinds of groundings, chores and torture for anyone who disturbed my slumber before 9:30 (remember when 'sleeping in' meant noon?). I felt secure that they were sufficiently scared and ready to comply when I tucked the little beggars in on Sunday night but I couldn't have been more wrong!
8:40 on Monday morning I was jolted awake by a lengthy drum solo followed by a recorder/piano duet that could have used a lot more practice. When I stumbled down the basement stairs to beg my offspring to cease and desist they all started talking to me at once. I felt like I was trapped in a beehive, it seemed like everyone and everything was buzzing and humming.
I finally got them to settle down and stop asking me questions and returned to my bed. Not thirty seconds later there was a knock at my bedroom door. It was Mischief. He crawled into bed beside me, put his cold feet on my legs and mashed his sticky face up against my neck and whispered, "I'm so glad you're a normal mom again. I've missed you!"
The fog is lifting, I am with my kids ... all is right with the world.
Healing does not mean going back to the way things were before, but rather allowing what is now to move us closer to God.