If you've never experienced the chaos and roller coaster of emotions that comes from hearing the "L" word, consider yourself lucky. What "L" word am I referring to you ask? L-I-C-E. Imagine the intensity of the word when you have not one, not two or three, but FOUR girls besides yourself...complete and total dread.
Our house looked like a bomb exploded. Every physical thing that our girls could have touched on three floors had been thrown down the stairs to ultimately end up in the laundry room. I had a dry check/apply treatment station. At the other end of the kitchen my husband manned the rinse and re-check station. When I tell you we spent hour after painstaking hour checking heads, it was long and intensive. This is the part in life where you know if you've married right or not -- if your spouse isn't at the other end of the kitchen at the second head checking station, then it's time to re-evaluate (lucky for me, I did alright).
I seriously can't put into words the work that goes into trying to get rid of these creatures. Delirium, exhaustion, dread, fear, tears--they're all there. Things that you don't even want to think about outside of clothing and towels have to be cleaned. Car seats, hair ties, couches, mattresses, backpacks, dress-up clothes, the list goes on and on. We missed Christmases, we missed parties. I paid TONS of money in supplies and ultimately took the kids and myself to a clinic that guarantees success. My husband even shaved his face to make sure these creatures were gone (haven't seen his face in almost two years).
Why share this horrible experience in our lives? Simply to let you know that if (and if you have young girls, more likely, when) you have it happen to you, that you're not alone and you will survive. It doesn't matter how rich or poor you are. It doesn't matter how clean you are, they can happen to anyone. And I can almost promise that every mama heart and mind out there goes into panic mode. The "how on Earth am I going to survive this?" thoughts run rampant. The tears will at some point come (probably when the exhaustion sets in).
The clinic had a sign that made me try to see the silver-lining in an otherwise really crappy situation. Life sometimes reminds me that try as I may to pay attention, I need to slow down and do better. So the weekend was spent at home sitting surrounded by piles of laundry and playing games with the kids in between loads.
Breathe mama. Slow down. Know that this too you will survive. You'll survive on fumes, coffee (maybe a little vodka) and cookies. And if you can, take the opportunity in between vacuuming and laundry to see the beauty in the unexpected time you been given with your kids.
No comments:
Post a Comment