Apparently I leave for Uganda in less than two weeks.
I am feeling a smidge overwhelmed.
And by “smidge,” of course, I mean that I am mere moments away from getting back in the bed, pulling the covers over my head, and staying there until at least Thursday.
I had this coming, you know. I’ve been all calm and rational and level-headed about the trip. I’ve said things like, “Oh, I just know all the details will work out” and “I’m not going to stress about what to pack” and “I’m sure I’ll be able to figure out what adapters and cords and converters and blah blah blah I need - it’ll all be FINE.”
Then, about 3 o’clock this morning, I heard Alex crying in his room, and when I went in there he told me that he had a dream that I left him and he couldn’t find me and “IT MADE ME VERY SAD, MAMA! WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?”
And I thought, “Oh, you don’t know the half of it, because in a little over a week I’m going to VOLUNTARILY LEAVE YOU FOR EIGHT DAYS.”
Then I buried my face in his hair and inhaled for a full ten seconds.
So in the interest of releasing the anxiety, casting all my cares upon Jesus as well as the internets, and trying to GRAB HOLD OF THE REINS, ALREADY, I would like to share my concerns / prayer requests / SUDDEN, MIND-NUMBING, CRIPPLING FEARS with you.
They are as follows:
1. Separation Anxiety
HOW CAN I LEAVE MY BABY FOR EIGHT DAYS? I mean, I know I can. But as I just told the husband, I really think it would be better for everyone if I could somehow temporarily shrink the four year-old, put him in my pocket, and hold his sweet little hand the whole way to Africa. And back again.
This makes perfect sense to me.
2. Sleeping (or lack thereof)
I have been concerned for a few weeks about how well I’ll sleep while I’m away. That concern has now elevated to something akin to full-on panic. So I’m definitely calling my doctor this afternoon and getting a prescription for something to help with that.
I’ll leave out the part about how it makes me a little nervous to take something for sleeping because what if I fall so asleep on the plane that no one can rouse me from my coma-like state and I miss a connecting flight and before you know it I’m landing in Hong Kong and it’s just like that episode of Alias where Sidney Bristow wakes up and boom! it’s four years later and my baby is eight years old and CLEARLY THIS WOULD BE QUITE TERRIBLE.
I’m incredibly rational when panicked, as you can tell.
3. Words
Bottom line: I’m scared of writer’s block.
Or “writer’s” block.
Whatever.
I’m scared that the words won’t come. I’m scared that I’ll sit down to write about all the things I’ve seen and heard and felt, and all that will come to mind is, “Hey, does anyone know the score for the State game?”
Because as y’all know, I can write post after post about Walmart, fried chicken, television and basketball. But I struggle when it comes to articulating my feelings about The Big Stuff. And I’m going to be surrounded by The Big Stuff while we’re there.
So.
If any of these things come to mind over the next couple of weeks, I would really appreciate your prayers.
And I’m going to go cook something now.
Because if I can’t get back in the bed and stay there, then I guess I might as well fix something good for supper.
Something like fried catfish covered in fried onion rings topped off with fried dill pickles.
With a hearty dollop of Ranch dressing.
I’m think I’m feeling better already.