13 September 2012

Off Kilter

The long hours are catching up ... "stir crazy," loss of focus, ... of memory. Having just survived THREE DAYS as a father by myself ... yes, I know, some kind of record or something, right?

For some reason, the Christmas-tale, "Twas The Night Before Christmas" has been ringing through my mind.

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

What I would have given for that extra bit of sleep. I definitely appreciate everything Jen does for me and I certainly hope that I extend the same amount of effort to her.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hoped that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

On top of caring for Patrick, I had a death at work to deal with ... a close, personal friend is now watching out for my son and his son (on the way). In the back of my mind has been a constant fear ... a clarion bell that I only managed to keep silent through herculean effort. This monologue of things to do, things done, and juggling ... "what can be done tomorrow, on top of everything else."

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.

He did sleep ... some well planned road-time knocked him out. Although this was after hours of wrangling, wrestling, and nail-biting on my part.

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.

I wish Mama had been around ... I hit the bed and crashed, hoping to sleep to the alarm. We did manage that at least.

How a Christmas story pertains to caring for my son ... I have no idea, other than these are the correlations my brain is making at the moment.

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