You’re as young as you feel

And today I feel about 75.  Phase two of getting my folks moved down here from Maryland took place yesterday, as our crew went up to get what they hoped would be the last load of stuff to complete the move. Naturally, the best laid plans of mice and men…

My part in most of this has been either helping with my dad’s needs getting back and forth to dialysis, meals, conversation, and babysitting while the younger and more energetic of my crew helps with the physical elements of moving.  They can do the lifting and toting that my joints rebel against, and I can do the gramma stuff pretty effectively.

So last night found me tending my almost-eight-year-old, and three grandchildren aged 2, 3, and 4.  The evening got off to a great start with the 3 yr old grandson spiking a fever and an earache.  He was miserable, and until the meds kicked in, just crying in pain.  The 2 and 4 year-olds went to bed nicely, but the four year-old couldn’t get to sleep.

So 1 am found me trying to doze on the sofa between my son and my granddaughter (I needed to be downstairs so I could hear the other grandson with the earache if he needed me).  Finally I nodded off about the time my husband and older son came in the door from the moving run.  By the time I got ready to try sleeping again, the sofa just wasn’t a viable option with the two wigglers, so we went upstairs to the guest room with the king sized bed and snuggled there with the 2 yr old grandbaby who was sleeping soundly.

An hour and several threats to the wigglers later, the 8 and 4 year olds are asleep, but I can’t sleep because the bed is just too uncomfortable.  And up pops the 2 year old, fresh as a daisy and ready to start her day like a chipper little sparrow.  I take her down to the sofa and try to get her to sleep, only to be followed by the 4 year-old who woke up when we left.  And there I hunched between those two, wanting desperately to sleep but knowing the 2 year-old can get into all sorts of mischief.

By six I’ve given up on sleeping and the 3 year old has awakened, and is feeling SO much better.  The earache is gone and he’s in warp energy mode.  I just want to crawl back under some warm covers and catch a few winks, but it ain’t happenin’ anytime soon.  Hubby is up and getting ready to go back to Mom’s for load number three, which should REALLY be the final load.  I make some waffles for the two rugrats who are chasing each other around the house and long for the day to pass.  I may find some philosophical slant to this scenario later when my brain cells are firing again.  But maybe not.  Maybe I just needed to share my insanity…