Madeleine got up at 4:45 this morning. She would not go back to sleep. I tried every trick in my book. Bouncing on the ball, swinging, swaying, going outside (in a t-shirt and my underwear! in 50° weather!), more bouncing, singing, you name it. And guess what I discovered after 45 minutes of doing this?
Yelling doesn't work, either!
Yes, it's true. I yelled at her. "Madeleine," I shouted, "You have got to go to sleep! I am too stressed out to deal with you!"
It was an all-time low. Of course yelling doesn't work. I felt like the world's worst parent.
I started to cry. I heard Riley in the bedroom crying, too. GH was trying to console him. It's too early for the twins to eat. I've been up since 4:00 (Riley woke up briefly and needed comforting then, and I never got back to sleep before Maddie got up.) GH is consoling Maddie. Riley is hanging out in the swing.
As for me, I want to break every plate in my house. What I really want to do is go out running, but no sports bra on earth is going to contain the wrath that is my milk-laden breasts, so forget that.
The problem is not so much that the kids got up early. They are babies. They are not doing it on purpose. They just woke up. It happens.
The problem is that I can't explain to them that they need to cut me some slack because their dad's platelets were too low for chemo yesterday. And his tumor marker numbers are rising. So are his liver functions. Last week's CT scan shows that while the tumor in the pancreas is stable, the mets in the lungs and liver are larger and/or more numerous. Clearly the current treatment is no longer working.
We'll meet with the oncologist next week to discuss next steps. GH's oncologist is a miracle worker, but I know we're running out of options.
What if this is the beginning of the end? Now that would be an all-time low.