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Man, I’m wiped out. Monday night I think I got two hours of sleep – I was obsessing on the career fair and classes and everything I needed to do, and the girls were having a fitful night, with one of them making noise like every 45 minutes or so. So I’d toss and turn and try to settle my head, only to have one of them cough or cry out and wake me completely and start all over again. And then I just got to the point where I was wide awake, waiting for the next sound. I don’t think I fell asleep until close to 4, and the munchkins were up by 6.
Tuesday night I fell asleep with them by around 9-9:30, but woke up at 12:30 and was awake until 3:30 or so, and they got up at 6:30.
Last night was better, but still not 8 hours and not solid sleep. I swear, I’m taking 3-4 benadryl tonight (the girls will be at their dad’s) and knocking myself out. Valerian didn’t do it, melatonin and Calms Forte didn’t do it, so I’m pulling out the big guns.
Melissa, Miss O has similar communication issues because of her unclear speech. And similar frustrations; she’s getting better, but it’s much slower going than it was with Bean. I know if I were to sit and focus with her like I could when I was a SAHM to one kiddo, she’d be better, and that sucks. I totally blew off her 18 month check, so I don’t know if she’s truly lagging or just not speaking as well as Bean did at this age. With two months to go until the 2-year one, and with flu season in high gear and me not feeling like just hanging out at the doc’s with her, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.
Bean’s doing quite a bit better at school of late; the teachers have been being more creative in finding things that work for her (and them), and while one girl can’t wait to tell me every day that Bean is mean to her (ironically, after the girl gets all up in Bean’s face when she’s cranky about being dropped off, and then calls her stinky), we’re incident report free. I don’t expect her to always get along with everyone, so even if the “Bean is always mean to me” is true, I’m fine with that. The girl makes *me* want to be mean to her with the 5-10 minutes I spend in the morning, so Bean’s showing considerable restraint if she’s just telling her to back off or the like.
And tomorrow I’m picking them up after lunch and we’re heading to Sea World for the weekend. Wish me luck. And patience. We’re going with Julia and her family, and another friend and her daughter. The friend got us a great rate at the Hyatt Hillcountry, right across from Sea World. There’s a bit to do at the hotel itself, too, so it should be a ton of fun. Packing for a weekend with two kiddos, tho, quite the adventure in overkill.
Bean’s beside herself about going, mostly because she’ll get to see the Clydesdales, which are her “favorite horse because of the feathers on the feet”. She’s expecting mommies and babies, so hopefully there’ll be a foal there. She’ll survive if there isn’t, but that would be awesome. She’s also excited that she’s tall enough to ride the kiddie rollercoaster 
I’ll give a full report Monday. Have a great weekend, everyone!
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Overheard, Bean making a pretend phone call this morning:
Hi Daddy.
{Sniff-sniff}
I … hate mommy.
I want you.
All because I was just trying to do a little work and cram in some blog time in my first thirty minutes of the day.
Being the custodial parent is a world of different from being a noncustodial one, IMO. There’s so little downtime, and I actually get 4 more days a month than most folks do. Typically, the noncustodial parent covers the first, third and (when it happens) fifth weekend, meaning the custodial parent often only has 6 days off a month. My usual is 10. The other 20 days are all mommy, all the time. Natch, there’s a good chunk of mommy at work/kids in daycare but all the home time is all me.
And I don’t have kids that give me free time when they’re with me; I have to cajole, wheedle, sneak and sometimes holler to get a few minutes alone. I pee, they’re there. I shower, they’re there. I cook, they’re there. I clean, they’re there. And not just hanging out or helping, but incessantly talking/whining at me to stop whatever it is I’m doing and pay attention to them. Play with them. Listen to them.
Don’t get me wrong, I really do adore them, but 20 days of the month, if I’m home, I’m not catching a break until they go to sleep. Which takes an hour of me being with them. And then it’s 8:30 or so and I have about 9 hours before the next day starts. So it’s constantly a choice of “do I sleep, or do I read/blog/write/clean?” And the personal time usually wins.
We had friends over today for a potluck; it’s funny – you spend hours cleaning to have folks over, and within, what, about 15 minutes the kiddos have turned the place into something health inspectors would condemn, given half a chance. But it was awesome to see everyone and to get the kids together, and totally worth the cleaning I swear, I have the greatest friends!
I got to wrap up my day with two very sleepy and very snuggly girlies; we read stories and they both fell asleep pretty quickly (under 45 minutes) so I can sneak in a blog post and finish the post-get-together clean up then maybe grab a solid 7 hours tonight.
Wish me luck!
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Back to my uber-exciting social life. I know y’all were hanging on the edges of your seats waiting for it. It’s okay to admit it, embrace it and holler your “don’t open that web site, girl!”s at the monitor. I ‘talk’ at people online, too.
I’ll work on getting more silly pictures of me; pictures that are at least moderately flattering and don’t make me look like Pizza the Hut … even with just the one pic, tho, I’m pretty popular. Not always with people I’d like to be popular with, as I’ve landed my share of rugged outdoorsmen, and there’s really nothing about me that says “let’s go butcher a deer.” Yanno?
My bleary-headed-ness this morning must mean the the girls are back. After 5 nights of good sleep, I’m trying to function after going to sleep at 10:30, waking at 11:30, waking again at 12:30 and being up for at least an hour, waking at 3:30 and being up for a good half hour, and then starting the day at 6:30. The first three wake-ups were courtesy of the lovely Miss O, the 3:30 was Bean, waking and realizing she was alone in there and 6:30 was O again.
I can’t be too mad at O this time, as she was waking with a cough that shounded a bit like a restricted airway. I’ve back of my head suspected she’s allergic or reactive to *something* over here (no-one say cats – there are 4 of them and maybe one or two would have even a remote chance of finding a good home if I had to place them). Both girls came home with some congestion, so I need to check with Dave on whether she was coughing like this at his place.
Sigh.
It’s still good to have them back. I haven’t seen them since I dropped them off at school last Thursday a.m.
Melissa, did I ever answer your question re: custody? I can’t remember …
Ooo – just got a text from the boss offering to pick up coffee and breakfast tacos. Salvation.
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Miss O woke up twice, I patted her back down pretty easily, so a decent night. Except it was like 8:30 by the time she finally fell asleep and she was up at 5.
She woke up at 4:30 and I got her back to sleep, thinking “yay! She should sleep until at least 6, maybe 7, since she was up so late.” I think my giddiness had worn off and I had just fallen asleep when I heard her again. At 5:00.
So I went in and she was standing up doing the gesture and sound that mean “I’d like to go out and play now, please”. I spent a good half hour trying to get her to go back to sleep, but at some point Bean woke up in my room and came barging in, asking “Why is she crying so much?” Before I could answer, she cut me off and said “I want to talk to Miss O. Miss O, do you want to come out and play with me?” To which Miss O gave a delighted “mmm-hm!” And mommy surrendered gracefully to the unstoppable force that is children in collusion.
It’s going to be a looonnngg day.
Thankfully, Julia’s fab website, Little Austinite, is chock full of events and places to go, so even on days that start at 5:00, I can fill the hours with kid-friendly shopping, dining, outings and home-based learning that should keep everyone but me from reaching for the bloody mary mix. I think we’ll be doing a park this a.m., Lakeshore Learning in the afternoon and grabbing lunch at one of the many restaurants around town that make dining solo with two kids … well, not exactly enjoyable, but better than it could be. If you are in the area and have not checked out Little Austinite, I do NOT know what you are waiting for – even the kidless set has something to gain, as the restaurant, venue and dining reviews come from grown-ups with stellar taste (if I do say so myself).
I’m still looking forward to doing ‘Science at dinner: Anatomy of the Rotisserie Chicken’ – Julia took something we can all lay hands on and, using her ginormous brain and years of high school AP biology, created a way cool science thing we can do at home for the littles. I know Bean is going to crap kittens when she sees all that stuff.
Random Beanisms:
Miss O, I wanted to show you how I became a rattlesnake.
Mother, I have a surprise for you (points at a picture of the colon) this is where the poop comes out.
I’m thrilled to see you alive, mommy. That means happy. I’m happy to see you alive. Animals think alive means dead, cuz some animals think it’s a different way of designing what alive means. They sometimes think people mean alive means dead. But that doesn’t make sense.
Bean: All the kids were screaming and hurting my eardrums
Mommy: Where were they screaming?
Bean: In my eardrums.
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Kill.
Me.
Please. Do it now.
I have spent the past hour listening to Miss O scream at me for one variation on the “I can’t possibly take a nap alone” theme or another. First the screaming because she wasn’t in the backpack. I was laying right damn next to her and she was still screaming.
Put her in the crib. More screaming. Got her remotely calm and quiet and try to step out. More screaming. Stepped back for some pats and soothing, tried to leave, more screaming. Sat with head pressed against crib rails, calmed her down. Moved to bed. More screaming. Calmed her again.
Tried to lay down on the floor to give my back a break. More screaming. Calmed her down again. She was nearly asleep, I stepped out. More screaming. Mind you, at that point it was 2:00 and I hadn’t eaten lunch. Closed door, let her scream, took a few bites of my now-cold frozen dinner.
Went back in. Calmed her down. Realized I have to pee. Badly. Laid on bed and talked in soothing voice, she started to konk out, I stepped out to pee before my bladder exploded, but left the door open so she knew she wasn’t “alone”. More screaming.
I decided to leave her in there a little while with the door open, but she’s still screaming and not calming down. We’re at the 50-minute mark now and I have. had. it. I need to get so damn much stuff done because I was sick yesterday, including preparing for a great job interview tomorrow, and she sleep sfine in a bed at her dad’s so WTF?!?
I’ve gone back in, tried to calm her, she won’t sleep and you know what? She can just scream for a few minutes while I type all this out and attempt to decompress. Because right now? I’m inclined to let her scream until bedtime, I’m that sick of the battle.
Added to that, I’ve wrapped up my taxes and thanks to Dave taking both girls as dependents, claiming Head of Household and me having to claim half of the damn economic stimulus I supposedly got, I’m down a boatload of money and feeling damn pissy about it. He should get the dependents, since he has actual income and probably needs the help they provide as deductions, but damn, I’m just frustrated with giving up so damn much money. None of it is his fault, per se, it’s just easier to blame him than the headless entity of the IRS.
And Miss O is still freakin’ screaming. And I can now add hollering “lay down and go to sleep!” to the list of things that don’t work.
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Today is going to go down as the day I can’t believe I didn’t throw myself in front of a goddamn train.
It’s 8:30. I have an interview tomorrow at 9 that I have been trying to prepare for all day. But you already read how well trying to get some alone time today went. And now O is awake – again. For the second time in 20 minutes. I spent an hour getting her to sleep. I get her nursed down and asleep, I walk out, she is up 5 minutes later. And I’m going to put my fist through a freakin’ wall here in a minute.
This isn’t even a little fair. How the hell am I supposed to shine with no sleep and/or no prep?
When I was in there this last time, I just wanted to scream and cry and kick something because it’s just one of those days where I get to pay and pay (sometimes literally) for the damn divorce and I just want to grab Dave and shake him and ask him why the hell he was such a cowardly weasel and why the hell he did this to me. None of this is my idea of a good time – the single parent gig blows sometimes, I’ve been screwed royally on taxes and lost a huge chunk of what should have been my nest egg (whole ‘nother story that I’m not sharing with the world at large, suffice to say one small oversight on my part = major screwage in my retirement fund) – and now I’m scrambling to prepare while I deal with a fever and a wracking cough. All of this is his fault. All of it.
Rationally and in the “not a few bubbles out of plumb” part of my mind I know that isn’t a fair assessment of the situation, but with my internal pity party going full bore, it’s hard to be anything resembling objective. I just want to curl up in a ball and cry and feel sorry for myself. But O is coughing again, so I’ll probably just have to stop mid-cry and go deal with her anyways.
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Someone please explain to me why it’s even a little bit fair that my kids are always up before 5:00 … I wasn’t sleepy until around 11:00, then it took me forever to just doze off, when Miss O woke up around midnight. And probably hourly after that. 5 hours of ridiculously interrupted sleep is just not acceptable.
If someone could also remind me that I hate the concept of letting my kid cry themselves to sleep. Remind me a lot. Because at almost 16 months, there is no earthly reason this kid should be waking 5-6 times a night. Last night it was more like 8-9 times, as she woke up 3 times before I went to bed.
If she didn’t sleep better (and later – until like 7:00) at Dave’s, I wouldn’t be quite so annoyed. But karmically speaking, my sleep shouldn’t be the one targeted if she was going to be a sucky sleeper at one house and not the other.
And of course, Bean woke up loaded for bear, throwing a whiny-crying-hollering hissy fit when I told her no to chocolate before real food, then ramping it up a few notches when the banana she was eating ‘broke’ and wasn’t all in one piece. Seriously. As if that changes the taste or anything. She screamed “no!” at me a few times when I told her to pick it up off the ground after she threw it there, so I ended up carrying her, kicking and screaming, to her room, tossed her on the bed and made her stay in there until she could mellow the hell out.
Magic word? Harumph. I’ll take civil words. Hand to god, if all these books I’m reading don’t give me some better coping tools, Bean’s going to be a gift with purchase on eBay before she turns four.
I’m tellin’ ya, I almost look forward to having to resolve conflict and deal with difficult people at work again. I cannot imagine a single situation I won’t be able to handle, as it’s unlikely that I’ll have to toss a screaming, crying coworker over my shoulder and put them in a time out. Or deal with “no!” screamed at me repeatedly. Or have them spit at me when they don’t like what I’ve said. I’m going to be the Zen Mistress at work, the one who can handle any sort of Joan Collins ‘tude without getting ruffled.
It’s hard to hold a grudge, tho, when the littlest one toddles in here, turns my chair to face her and beams up at me. And it’s especially hard to hold a grudge when the big one is at school for the day … yay for preschool!!
I took my taxes over to HR Block yesterday for their “Second Look”, and I’m just flat-out getting hosed. Ugh. I’m most pissed about not being able to claim student loan interest because the statement has just Dave’s social on it. I’m paying it, it was charged to me in the divorce decree, but it’s his to deduct. And since he makes more than they allow for the deduction, no one gets a break. My advice to anyone contemplating divorce is to talk to an accountant first. We skipped that part, and we both got hit hard on stuff. So, accountant. Definitely. Especially if you have a bunch of assets to split and a damn student loan that can’t be assigned to anyone else.
I watched my expected return get chopped in half because of that flippin’ student loan interest … I’ll get over it, but I’m still cranky about it. Grrr …
On to something less aggravating – validation from the American Association of Pediatrics for me having kept Bean rear-facing until she was 2: http://aapnews.aappublications.org/cgi/content/full/30/4/12-a … Miss O is still rear-facing and I had been loosely considering turning her to the front, but now she’ll stay RF until at least two as well. And since she’s such a teeny thing, I may leave her that way longer. She’s usually got Bean in there with her to give her someone to look at and to keep her entertained, as well as a mirror that she can see me in, so it shouldn’t be too hard to keep her RF.
There’s also a Stonyfield Farm recall, affecting a few runs of the 32-ounce fat-free yogurt, for a “minute amount of food grade sanitizer” – http://www.stonyfield.com/
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