Tomorrow I meet with a representative of the Veteran’s Administration who helps veterans apply for additional benefits. I meet with her to talk about my dad’s situation and I have to provide her with another whole slew of information that I have provided, in part, to others involved in this financial requirement quagmire. But before that meeting, I will have to take my four-year-old son to preschool and then back to his grandmother, who will watch him while I attend that meeting.
Amazing how you can cerebrally know about a situation and intellectually understand it without having a real clue about how it plays out in a life… until it plays out in your own life. I am sandwiched. Running the kiddo around to preschool and playdates. And fielding phone calls about my dad’s next doctor’s appointment and figuring out if I can make it to that one. Falling into bed at night thinking, “Crap. I don’t think my son brushed his teeth today. And I didn’t get that check sent off for dad’s taxes.” Sigh. Sleep.
Some days it feels more like sandbagged.