For days, she takes away, cowering in a corner looking at me probably go. So I feel I can do everything, to have the upper hand over the mess surrounding domestic, to be stronger and faster than him. I put to use every moment, I scoured the sink while a child takes a shower, I empty the dishwasher while it's the turn of the second. I clean the utensils and stores the kitchen while I cook dinner, peel the carrots and let the son practicing his violin before going to pick up the clothes dry tancarville. Fatigue is far - it is there, but impalpable, she catches up once the kids to bed, but let me carry my boat in the meantime.
And then without warning the day after she terrace. It falls on me like a leaden, sticky, sticky, immobilizing. Each step is an effort to make each decision, however slight, is an insurmountable mountain. I even more energy to recall the instructions to the children - we do not run, wipe your hands, tidy your room, talking on a different tone. When I allow myself 30 minutes of break, saying it will get better after that, in reality things are not better at all, I look at my watch after the half hour and curse myself for having wasted so much time. Besides the half-hour turns often in a couple of hours well packed, which plowed furrows of my bad conscience even deeper.
When fatigue left me, I have a wonderful sense of lightness. When fatigue caught up with me, I feel heavy, useless, incompetent. She pointed out the cobwebs I have not destroyed in the corners, the fat that I have not cleaned the kitchen cabinets, broom that I have not spent under the table and the dirty clothes lying on the floor ... by making all these little things precipices where I'd rather not even throw me. Instead, I despair of being so easily overwhelmed, without trying anything else.
Tonight was a night like this. Sitting in the bus I was fighting against sleep. Arrive at school we have more than 30 minutes to emerge between the humor of the one disappointment of the other (and we do not ask me why), inertia Maternal and cosmonaut suits to collect. The return route stretched in length, peeling onions sitting in the hallway human falling turned into a struggle against an enemy soft gray, ubiquitous, suffocating. I managed to empty the bags, hang coats and put the rest to dry in a sort of fog, before collapsing.
fatigue goes, just fatigue. Tonight she was there, whimsical fifth family member. Tonight the prospect that one day it will happen very far away to live at 6 seems insurmountable.
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