I cried “Uncle” last night.
Well, more like “Mom, help!”
You see, Hubs has been laid up for about a month now with a stress fracture in his leg. I’ve been performing 100% of the active parenting and household duties, while playing nurse to him the best I can. (I’m not that good at it. But I try.)
Yesterday, my lower back felt the painful after-effects of moving a microwave and mini-fridge down to the basement (for aforementioned laid-up Hubs).
After a full day at work and an extra-long commute home (thanks, unfortunately timed thunderstorm), I cooked dinner for the fam, ate, then collapsed on the couch next to my husband. We traded moans and tears, both of us in a great deal of pain, and argued over who should get the last painkiller in the bottle.
The kids needed me — ya know, for baths, jammies and all that — and I just couldn’t do it.
So what did I do? Called my mom.
Thank God for my mom.
She and my dad came right over (they live 2 miles away) and did what needed to be done. While my mom cleaned up the dishes in the kitchen, my dad caulked the kids’ bathtub and took the trash and recycling out to the curb. They both gathered up the kids and their things, and took them home for an impromptu sleepover.
I felt such a wave of relief, knowing my kids and house were cared for — just long enough for me to get a good night’s rest and an easy morning. I woke up and my back felt much better. I worked from home in the morning, nursing my back on the couch and helping Hubs as much as I could.
Sometimes you just have to call in the reinforcements when times get tough. Ya know?