What's for Dinner

No, I'm not going to write about dinner nonsense. I want to speak about the first breakdown in the basement.

It happened when there were only two, Jake and Gus, I was pregnant with Jack. I went down to the basement of my 100+ year old house, with it's crumbling damp walls and concrete pot-holed floor and I was loading yet another massive mound of clothes into the washer which is hard to do when your shorter and have Tyrannosaurus Rex like arms and a bowling ball baby stomach, so I paused and looked at the pile of clothes that mocked me from the floor. I then used that same pile to sit on when I started to cry. I spoke to myself about not being able to do it. How for the next say, eighteen and a half years, that was, if my children ever left, how was I going to do laundry ad nauseam. . I got all cried out, stood up and realized that Bill W had laid it on the line, or was it Triumph, anyway, "One load at a time". That and only that is how I still manage the "laundry issue". The event was 11 or so years ago, but I remember the sheer force of will that helped me to get past rock bottom and climb up and out of that place.