Tuesday.

Last Tuesday was pretty rough. So much so I couldn’t really bring myself to write about it. I’m not sure why exactly. I think part of me wants to think I’m tough. Part of me wants believe I can do anything. Part of me doesn’t like to admit when something has kicked me in the shins and I just wanna scream out obscenities.

Tuesday.

Let me just paint you a picture. Come. Journey back with me. It started like every day has since we’re arrived. All 3 kids up at 5:15am. (Need I even say more?) By about 8am I was dripping sweat. I kissed Brandon goodbye while trying to not curse his lucky fortune of getting to drive an hour in air conditioning to the capital. Mid-morning rolls around and we’ve got to get out of our 20×20. I buy spray us all up, and off we go. Nothing more delicious than when you’re already dripping with sweat and bug spray, and then you strap a baby to you. We lasted about 20 minutes before we were overcome by mosquitoes. So back to the house we all ran. I am trying to remove one soaking wet baby from me when I hear another scream out. Like a I’m really hurt this is terrifying scream. I look up to see the thick and heavy tree stump that makes for a wobley coffee table has fallen on Eliana’s achilles. I too let out some sort of gasp and run over to her. I manage to lift the dang monstrosity off of her, and she is now hyperventilating.  I see blood, and naturally my mind goes to worst place. I panic. I cannot call Brandon because today his big to-do in Managua is getting us phone numbers. Thankfully I do have internet, so while holding pressure on her leg with ice while she continues to cry I send an email that reads something like “Eliana. huge gash on leg. Call me ASAP”. ( I probably should have been a bit more accurate on my medical assessment… Because, in fact, it was a large scrape & bruise not a gash, of which apparently there is a big distinction. So when Brandon got my message and called me one hour later, he was ready to take us to a hospital.) Oops. I’m telling you, I don’t do great in medical emergencies.

Thankfully, she was fine. It could have been so so much worse. We then ate lunch, played, and attempted to take naps but no body could sleep because it was 100 degrees with 100%humidity, and zero breeze. So after an hour of trying to keep everyone in their beds and give myself a moment to sit, I just gave up. Now I had 3 cranky kids who, bless their hearts, just wanted to sit in my lap. All at the same time. So there we sat, 4 tired and hot bodies, just staring at each other.

Later that afternoon, Brandon arrived, and we went down to the beach. The place that is just a one minute walk but feels like a different world. It’s a place where there is a breeze, and also therefore, minimal bugs because of that blessed breeze. We ordered two beers, and put Audra in the hammock, and watched the kids play. Sigh…

Until, that same scream. This time it was from Hudson, my non dramatic child, and my heart froze. I jumped up to see that he had fallen from where we were all sitting (a little deck above the sand) about 3 feet up, into cactus. Yes, 3 sides have sand but he fell into the side with the cactus. Poor baby. And oh my goodness, it could have been so much worse. He got it all in his hands, and wrists, and was bleeding.

We walked home, and wearily showered everyone and put them to bed. Shortly thereafter I too went to bed.

I see now that it was just an extra-ordinarily rough day. It doesn’t mean we don’t love the beach, the woods, the bugs, the log tables. It just means that on this journey of moving back to Nicaragua we are going to have good days and bad days. It’s not any different for every single person living on this earth.  But this rough day,I think somehow, in my heart, felt different. These tough days feel more like a defeat. It feels deeper, like I’m questioning my sanity. And I thought I was tough, but perhaps I’m less tough than I think. I feel pretty soft these days, and I’m not just talking about my post baby squishy spots.  It’s been over 3 years since I’ve lived here and I think I’ve forgotten what a struggle just existing here can be.

But for real, if there is any part of you feeling an inkling of pity for me, don’t. The next day the property manager came to check on me and after hearing the dramatic re-telling of that table squishy, cactus eating day, she hugged me while I cried. Then the next day she had a lady come and clean our little rental and the last hour she was here she watched all three kids and I went and got a massage. On the ocean. Listening to the waves.

I guess life isn’t that hard after all.