Revival of the Fittest

This week is our church's revival. I love my church. Therefore, I am involved. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't be going to church every night for four nights. Nothing personal, it's just that I have these kids, and this laundry, and all this stuff, and this crochet project gift that STILL isn't done for a birthday that was last Wednesday. I do VBS every year, no matter what and that is my annual dedication to live at the church for a while.

I am there, though. I haven't missed a night yet, and tonight is the last night and I have every intention of trucking on over there.

But, it's been a long haul.

For one thing, it turns out that five and one are not the best ages for sitting through this type of service. I actually knew that because they barely survive Sunday morning service, so this, at bedtime, is just killer.

Which is the other thing. The scheduling thing. Usually, we eat dinner around 6:30, then Maren goes to bed at 7:30 or 7:45 and Brynna heads to bed at about 8:30. We like a routine, but we are not rigid about it. This week, though, we are in service at 6:00, eating dinner about 7:30 and Maren gets to bed about 8:30 or 9 and Brynna goes down about 9:30. This actually isn't too bad at night. Maren starts getting wilty about the time we're sitting down to eat. Then, after food she gets a second wind that pulls her through until she hits the sheets. Brynna could honestly stay up until midnight without getting cranky most of the time. She's destined for my sleep schedule.

Mornings are another story, though. Maren is still waking up at 6:30, but she is a lot crankier at 6:30 than normal. And Brynna is barely waking up at all. The other day, I dressed her in her sleep. This morning, I bribed her into dressing herself with cookies for breakfast. I can't even call this a parenting fail, because we made it to school with everything she needed for the day, she was bathed and wearing clean clothes. Parenting win this week.

I was worried about the kids. Prepared for the kids' trauma, even. I had contingency plans and laundry built up, warned the babysitter, etc, etc. I was not, so much, prepared for my own trauma.

For one thing, I have been a cranky mess. I am so tired by the time that I get home, that The Husband and I can fight over anything, like the cat's water bowl or bath towels. My head is constantly aching and I seem to be hot even with the a/c cranking. My house is a disaster area, which is adding to my major crankiness and I can't seem to get caught up on sleep, even though I don't seem to be actually sleeping any less than normal.

Then, this morning, the kicker. I don't know what's wrong with me. My throat feels like someone shoved a cheese grater down it a couple of times yesterday and my head feels like maybe my brains were sucked out and replaced with cotton. I can barely breathe and my head is killing me with the pressure. My eyes won't stop watering and my nose won't stop running and in addition to the crackly timbre of my voice from my sore throat, I also can't seem to get the volume up where it belongs. Additionally, I just can't seem to get it mentally together today.

It's probably allergies. Except the lady who works with me thinks I might have a fever. I am cold. And she says it's hot in here. And she says my head is warm, but I don't know, as I don't have a thermometer and it just feels like a forehead to me.

And the thing is, I can't afford to drop right now.

Tonight I have to take food for the revival (hot, germ killing food, I promise). Tomorrow is Brynna's Montessori graduation. Friday is payday. Saturday is the start of a three day weekend and even though I have the sneaking suspicion that I have something planned, I can probably blow it off. And go to bed. For three days.

Just 72 more hours. In the meantime, I need a t-shirt that says, "I Didn't Survive the Revival." Because that is exactly how I feel.

* By the way, if you don't get the picture, that's CCR, Creedence Clearwater Revival. Band from the 70's and popular image hit for the word Revival. Which, kind cracked me up. Also, I love me some CCR. Particuarly, "Fortunate Son" and "Who'll Stop the Rain." Also, "Lookin' Out my Back Door," despite the fact that it gave me nightmares as a kid. I was a weird kid, what can I say?