Sometimes life gets in the way of good plans. Or great plans. I was so looking forward to camping this weekend. My husband and I were going to celebrate our anniversary by spending the weekend in the Wisconsin Dells.
Then my mom called.
Doctor appointments. Further testing. Diabetes complications. Something more.
Mom is at our house now, spending a few days in the guest bedroom. I know she's scared and upset, but she seems better now that she's here. I couldn't send her home to stay alone in her house with the day's events hanging over her head. That would be cruel.
I won't lie: I'm mourning the loss of our beautifully planned anniversary weekend. This should have been Jack's first trip to the Wisconsin Dells - an event I've been planning out since he was little more than a poppyseed. Everyone at work is telling me to have fun on my big weekend, and I'm telling them that I'm actually taking care of my mom instead. And I feel guilty as hell for being sad about that.
I hope it rains in the Dells, rains with the furious hurricane force. If I can't have fun, no one can. Man, that's selfish.
It is going to be a rough weekend.