All explorers cry, right?

Today was tough.

I’ve never claimed to be a Supermom, but I did feel like I could handle this challenge - hang out in California for a month with my kids alone. How hard can that be?? I love these kids with every fiber of my being. It’s a month.

The 24/7 of it, with no friends for any of us and no school or diversions for them has proven quite challenging. It took me three hotels, even “suite” hotels to figure out we needed more space if the four of us were going to co-habitate, so this time I rented a house. Still, the call to squabble was apparently too strong for my darling boys to resist.

My mother offered to fly Grant to DC and to keep him there for 10 days. He is in full tween swing and instigates the majority of the arguments in the house, so with those things in mind as well as his never-dying devotion to his Lola, I agreed, thankfully. But the minute he walked with the flight attendant down the jetway by himself in his pink unicorn pajamas, I cried.

Prior to arriving at the airport, though, Chase had to pee. He gives a standard 60-second warning before extreme-pee-urgency kicks in and I knew I had to act fast. But we were within 15 minutes of LAX. Where to stop?? We found a fast food place with a man sleeping off something strong in the corner and an almost-clean restroom and peed quickly.

Waze brought us back to the rental home on the PCH, which is beautiful, but also terrifying. More tears. Gripping the steering wheel with every muscle fiber.

I had bought groceries to save money and made dinner for the boys. They did art with markers while I cooked and we had a fun conversation about veterinary surgical procedures that limit fertility. We ate our favorite cauliflower and Brussels sprouts with chicken and I got up to do dishes. Cut my thumb with a big knife. It barely cut the damn vegetables! But it went through my skin like it was nothing.

The word I exclaimed was “Sugarpants!” my go-to kiddie-safe expletive. I wrapped my thumb and left the room - into the boys’ room. Oh, yeah, someone wet the bed last night despite my pleas to wear a pull-up. Gotta strip the bed and do a load of laundry before bedtime. One handed.

That’s when the tears came.
I sat down.
Defeated.
Tired.
I already feel like the boys are getting more screen time and junk food than they should in their lifetimes.
I miss Grant.
I feel guilty because I’m glad Grant isn’t here pestering his brothers.
Trying to save money, but we have to be safe, right?
Dammit, I love these boys.

And that is where we’re at, friends. Living out of suitcases, searching the internets for places to sleep that are hopefully clean and safe, trying to expose my kids to new adventures but repeatedly asking myself if they will even remember this and praying like crazy I will hear our visas have been approved and we can join Rick in NZ.

Yes, my meds are on track. No, we’re not in crisis. It’s ok.
Just a breakdown day.
Tomorrow we’ll start again, fresh.
Team Bofamily.

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