When I woke up yesterday morning I was sure that the biggest disruption of the week was Z going out to work on this semesters studio project numerous times which left me and Buzz alone together for rather extended periods of time. I'm standing in my kitchen, hitting 'refresh' on a dozen news sites and listening to the radio announce that rockets are falling in the 'Gush Dan' area. Trust me - I am well aware of the plight that our friends in the central-southern and coastal ares - and they've been under more or less constant barrages of rockets (just like these) for YEARS! But the concept of running for your safe-room (and by safe room I mean bomb shelter) doesn't quite hit you until you find yourself washing dishes, wondering if any of your friends are going to be sent to the front lines and then hear that the red-alert is being sounded only a 40 minute ride from your front door. All this (weirdly enough) gets compounded into an enormous bundle of panic in the chest when you've got a child to consider!
At this point I've got the little guys in my head doing 3 different little dances - 1/3rd are shouting that I should have been organizing the mamad and stocking it with appropriate provisions (diapers, wipes, water, snacks...) and kicking me in the tush for not having gotten around to getting Buzz his US citizenship yet and procrastinating ordering his gas-mask kit! 1/3rd are just staring at me blankly as if to say, "relax you crazy woman - there are MUCH bigger cities to fry before Hamas gets around to targeting Ariel - of all places." The last 1/3rd are running around and screaming in sheer blind panic - partly at the thought of Z or anyone else I know getting called up for reserve duty and partly because well - fajr5 missles don't exactly knock politely and ask for a donation or a cookie. I'm pretty sure this explains the serious headache that just won't go away. (Well that and the neighbors that insist on doing home improvements at between 7pm-10pm and keep Buzz up as a result.
We've decided to head out to The Sun House for Shabbos because frankly after a week of watching the baby I am so wiped out I couldn't really care less about cooking for the weekend. I showered twice this week and the baby is still alive - those are big enough accomplishments for me. (Sad, huh?)
There are a zillion dishes to be washed - fine I'm exaggerating - only a whole lot. (I'd include a picture but it's honestly waaaaay too embarrassing.) My stovetop and counter haven't been cleaned for almost a month - so that's also pretty gross. The floor has enormous gray splotches of dirt on it. (Yes, we're not just talking messy house anymore - we're actually talking about real honest to goodness dirt.) I only did 2 loads of laundry (there are at least 4 more - because I didn't manage to do all of the laundry from last week either...) and the laundry that I did wash last week is still sitting in the baskets on the floor of my bedroom. Unfolded and crinkled beyond belief. (When I was younger my mom would have said that they looked like they came out of someone's backside - which truth be told - is pretty accurate.) I probably shouldn't mention when the last time the sheets got changed was - mostly cause it's gross but really because I honestly can't remember.
Instead I'm going to hunker down in my delightfully chilly (64F) bedroom and watch some more pointless tv. Highly productive, right? Hey, for all I know by the time the morning comes - Ya know what - let's not even go there. Let's just suffice it to say - the mess is just not a top priority for me right now.