So far, 2012 has been a pretty stressful year. I came to the states to help my son and his family while they moved into a new house. I imagined Grandee playing with the kids while their folks busied themselves unpacking boxes. It was like that. Sort of.
On moving day, the two boys were projectile vomiting and the girl had diarrhea. Oh joy. We dealt with it. It was a stomach bug that was going around and luckily the adults did not pick it up. The next day, the baby got his hands burned pretty badly so there was a panicked trip to the ER and all the subsequent guilt and drama. The next morning, when trying to take the baby to see a burn specialist, their truck wouldn’t start. All this by the second of January.
I’m Irish enough to believe that bad things come in threes. I’ve been hopeful that this trifecta of trauma is all the excitement I’ll experience while I’m here in the frozen tundra. One can hope.
When your family is in the middle of a stressful event like moving to a new home, any little extra or unexpected thing can send you over the deep end. The straw that broke the camel’s back, as it were. I’m praying that we’ve seen all the bad things that 2012 will be bringing. No more excitement is necessary to usher in the new year, God willing.
If it continues stacking up at this rate, I’ll begin to believe that the Mayans were right and the end is near.