Dishes, dishes, and more dishes!!! Oh the horror!

So, our brand new dishwasher broke. Yes, after 2 whole weeks of working, it just stopped. And so did life. Because how are we supposed to have clean dishes without it? It took a couple of days to realize that the dishes were going to have to be washed - - by hand. After my 5th "load" of dirty dishes, I suddenly had a flashback to my childhood, when all dishes had to be washed this way. All the time. My cousin once asked, "Where's your dishwasher?" and my dad, looking at my older sister and me, answered, "you're looking at them" He laughed, we trembled. It was traumatizing. So much so, that I've pushed the memory into the deepest, darkest recesses of my brain. I feel all those old feelings gnawing at me every dish I wash.
How could my parents have forced me to do this every single day? How did I survive such a horrific childhood??!!
My kids have gone to bed hungry at night, because the thought of washing the dishes they eat on is too horrifying. So I give them a cookie and them on their way.
How is my life supposed to continue like this? How can I possibly make it until this weekend? Life with no dishwasher is no life at all.
I think of my poor mother who had to hand wash every singled dish back in the day. Why did she even bother cooking? This is no way to live! Why didn't every single mother just feed their family sandwiches on napkins before dishwashers? Was there a before dishwashers?! The thought of not knowing the joys of a machine washing your dishes is too much for me. It's painful, really.
Friday our new dishwasher comes. I will kiss it. I will love it. I will care for it like it's my child. What other disaster could possibly come next? No tv? No internet? Bread that hasn't yet been sliced?
I think I need to lie down!