yes, I'm still alive.
My whole body HURTS. My head HURTS. My brain HURTS. My heart HURTS.
I'm sitting in bed at 11:30 a.m., covers pulled up to my chest, AC set to 74, ceiling fan on high, coffee on my bedside table along with quilt mags that came in the mail earlier this week. Talk about despondent - I haven't even opened the magazines. Quilting? Hasn't happened all week.
AB is in his pajamas, lying on the floor singing to the dog who is also lying on the floor.
The Dad is in the recliner, hardly able to move. He's as sore as I am but for different reasons. WG has slept in our bed all week because she's terrified of Sissy's violent behaviors and screaming so The Dad has acquiesced and slept in the recliner all week. Neither of us has slept well at all, Sissy's been a loud, restless sleeper for two weeks now. We're on pins and needles because she is sleep walking again and the alarm is no longer sufficient to contain her in her room.
WG is also in her pajamas, playing contentedly with her stuffed doggies. She had major meltdowns the last two days, venting her fear and anxiety by beating up and berating me. We have been working through a therapy packet Sissy's therapist left for us. It seems to be stirring things up in WG's little mind.
Sissy is in the shower, I'm waiting for her to call 5's ... hold on, she's shouting ...
OK, so I went into the bathroom, she was hollering that there was no shampoo. (there was). She was showering in the dark and the bathroom smelled like urine, her soaked underwear in a ball on the bathroom floor ...
God, it's going to be a long day.