That's Me at the Bottom of that Pile of Laundry

I'm checking in because I'm not sure when the next time is that I'll be able to write. This happens to be the last week before school starts, and not only do I face shopping for school supplies, school clothes, getting haircuts and pediatrician checkups and eye exams and orchestra supplies COMPLETELY without help (my ex is officially broke, won't help with a penny, and had his car repossessed and can't drive them anywhere anymore), but business suddenly went from zero to 100 which I was SO not expecting and SO not ready for. Mr. W is out of the country again on another amazing trip, this time with his brother, and I'm so overwhelmed that I can't see straight.

I sat down tonight in front of my tv, turned on HBO, found every single piece of laundry in the house I could find, dumped it in the middle of the living room, and sorted through it all. I threw away an entire trashbag full of holey clothes, and another trashbag of clothes is going to GoodWill. It took almost 3 hours. But now the laundry room is organized and even though I didn't actually wash anything, I don't feel as overwhelmed to start it as I did before.
I'm trying to take the "organizer's" approach to this to do list that seems to lengthen by 3 things everytime I cross of one. Focus on getting one thing done at a time (but my GOD this list is like staring up at Everest from the bottom.)

Today I took my younger two with me grocery shopping. Almost 2 hours of trying to keep my 3 year old a)in the basket, b)to keep her shoes on, c)to not scream and touch my face with cereal boxes while I'm trying to shop, while also trying to keep my 7 year old from a)lifting up the back of my dress to expose my ass (WHY she thought this was so hilarious today I have no idea!!), b)begging me for every free sample, every item in the store, c)stop whining everytime her sister looked at her funny. At the end I was checking out, one hand keeping my youngest from knocking me in the head with the box and one hand holding my other daughter away from the back of my dress. The checker looked at me and asked if I had any big plans today. Umm ya. THEIR BEDTIME. We started talking a bit while she checked me out and I told her I was a single mom. She had "mad respect" for that and told me all about how she was raised by a single father, and how much she appreciated him now. It was the first spark of hope I've had in a long time. Everyone says "someday they'll appreciate what you went through", but it never feels like that could actually happen.

In the meantime I'm just putting one foot in front of the other. I'm definetly proud of what I'm accomplishing, even if it feels like it's just one tiny thing a day, and I am SO proud of my kids.

Wish me luck!