I don't know if I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today or what. I was SO tired from the terrible night's sleep I got (and seem to get most of the time lately thanks to my stinkin' thyroid). I got to do the "fun" job of updating the budget and making sure all those darn medical bills are getting paid (it makes me sick to watch our vacation get smaller and smaller as we pay more and more medical bills. And here I am.....still sick!). Then I got to start the 47 loads of laundry all while chasing baby J around the house since he seems to be attracted to whatever he can't have. I also had to do a ton of work on the computer for the upcoming doctor Thursday, some stuff I am selling online, finding piano movers (and not liking the estimates I was getting), doing research on some more prospective medical stuff, and so on and so forth.
Then I got to move to the phone. I got to call my opthamologist....not may favorite place to go. You can read all about my latest experience here. I had to follow up on some issues Jonah's been having, which ended up being worth being worth mentioning and the doc did have some advice as far as what to do next.
Call after call, all the while the kids are terrorizing the house while Wes is in the living room struggling to work out. We should have thought that one through a little better and tag-teamed it. Too bad I didn't think of that until just now.
Finally naptime came. I did the regular routine of stories, snuggles, and leaving for the boys to sleep. Jonah decided that he wasn't going to sleep without a bottle (we've started to notice a dependency here, and we've been working on breaking it) so we all endured a LONG bout of crying. (I promise, I checked on him a few times, gave him snuggles and something to chew, but he wasn't going to have anything but the bottle.) I think all the crying killed naptime for the boys (I know it would for me) and they never went to sleep and mommy never got a break.
Well, my kids don't initially get grumpy when they are tired, they get wild. I felt like I was taking care of zoo animals. They completely wore me out today. I did manage to get to the library - sans stroller (thanks Wes. I swear EVERY time he uses my car he always forgets to put the important stuff back!) and in the cold, blustery wind, to turn in a book that was two weeks overdue, and get to the grocery store (pure torture with two wild animals) to buy the new, expensive formula the doctor wanted me to try Jonah on.
I decided to do a quick breakfast dinner tonight, and I ran the tub for the boys to play in while I fixed dinner and chased Jonah some more.
I found a bathtub full of blue soap so thick I had to rinse everyone off and give them another bath to wash the soap, and then begin to mop up the inches of water on the floor. Note to self: skip baths if the boys skip their naps. It is not worth it.
Thankfully everyone ate dinner, and Jonah went off to bed without a peep. But then the phone rang, and it was a call I'd been expecting that was important. I told the boys to go pick two stories each and look at their new library books in their bed while they waited for me.
Do you think they listened?
Of course not! I had to keep hiding in my house to find somewhere to talk to the person on the other end so I could hear them, and finally had to hang up when I heard screaming in the other room and Kolton explained to me that he had politely asked Micah to move so he could hit a ball with a bat (on a baby toy we have) and Micah didn't move and Kolton accidentally hit him with the bat. Of course the victim had to try out his acting skills and go for the award of the most dramatic sore toe in the history of the world.
I'm sad to say that Mommy finally joined in on the screaming tonight. I don't yell very often, and neither does Wes, but I was WAY past my breaking point and I really reached the point where I didn't know what to do. Naturally, I felt terribly afterwards. Lucky for me that my kids are very forgiving. At least the night was able to end in snuggles and giggles and only my heart had to be heavy from what had just happened.
Today, I am just at wit's end. I've been there all day, and I cannot wait to crawl into my bed and hopefully slip away into dreamland and blissfully forget about all the chaos of today. I cannot wait for Wes to get home and crawl into bed with me.
I am tired of being sick and not knowing when or how I'll get better. I'm tired of stressing about how much this "sickness" is costing me. I'm tired of laundry and dishes and trying to eat gluten-free and driving back from Timbuktu every time I need to grab something like a new baby formula from the grocery store. I'm tired of trying to adapt my life to Wes' crazy schedule and keep track of when he'll be here and when he won't. I'm tired of being tired all the time. I'm tired of my hair falling out. I'm tired of worrying about the guy I found in our garage last week coming back to steal something besides washer fluid. I am just tired.
I think I need a hug.
Tomorrow will be better right? I'm banking on it.
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