Meltdown
It finally happened. I melted down. I unsuccessfully tried to pull a little "I'm okay, I'll take care of it, I got this" out of my empty reserves and fell flat on my face. This summer has whizzed by at a break-neck pace and I've been "on" the entire time. With a willful (but beautiful) four-year-old pulling me in every direction and a squealing, screeching (but beautiful) two-year-old frustrated beyond all imagining by his stroke-induced cerebral palsy and epilepsy condition - I'm spent.
Yesterday, when my baby began making alarm-like screams in the car, I fell apart. Uncontrollable weeping, inarticulate mumbling, heaving weird sobs in between apologies to my dear husband in the driver's seat. Its the first time in a while that I've been totally inconsolable. After catching my breath and having a good ugly cry, my darling Jack suggested I get out of the house and recharge. And so I did.
I drove around for about 40 minutes until the puffiness in my eyes subsided and I got hungry. Then I ended up at Toulouse - a sweet little French cafe in the Knox-Henderson neighborhood of Dallas.
Then, like any premenstrual nut job, I ordered a French 75 (champagne, gin and lemon juice), a plate of mussels in saffron broth, and a basket of fries with mayonnaise. If you're ever looking for the antidote to the "bat-shit-crazy-loose-your-cool-mommy-freak-out", than this is it. See below:
It doesn't matter how great my kids are - and let me tell you, they're amazing - I still need time away. I knew I was heading down hill when my husband came home from work the other day and I became secretly jealous because he had spent 10 minutes alone in traffic listening to public radio. I kept thinking, "I would give anything to be trapped on the 75 in bumper to bumper traffic if it meant I could enjoy a few moments alone listening to All Things Considered. But do you know what makes me feel better? Well, besides shellfish and champagne cocktails. Beautiful photos of dreamy bohemain interiors. So, here's a little something for what ails you. Or, rather, what ails me.
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I feel better already. And just for good measure - here are my two kiddos. See, I told you they were amazing.
