I really, really want to post something positive. It's Christmastime, I spend a lot of time complaining, and there are some good things going on with me. I even have some posts brewing that are not about me, my husband, or the twins, but are rather actual thoughts and reflections and maybe even insights.
But today I have to vent. Today, I give to you:
How to Have a Seriously Crappy Evening and Night
1. Make sure it's a treatment Wednesday so that your husband will fresh off the chemo drip.
2. Extra points if it's a new treatment, meaning that he's been at the clinic for hours waiting to see his doctor, sign consent forms, and actually get the treatment.
3. Extra extra points if he's actually going back on an old treatment that was stopped because of the severity of the side effects.
4. Extra extra extra points if tumor marker numbers and liver function tests are at near all-time highs.
5. Make sure your husband does not get home until it's bedtime for the babies so that you have to race around frantically to get things ready.
6. Have a long, depressing conversation with your husband once the twins are in bed, peppered with comments from him such as, "If something happens to me, they won't even remember who I am." (where "something" = "death" and "they" = "Maddie and Riley).
7. Finally stagger to bed only to have your son start yelling five minutes after your head hits the pillow.
8. Bonus for your daughter waking up and starting to cry while you try to console your yelling son.
9. Knowing that your husband needs sleep, temporarily abandon screaming children to find him some earplugs. Give him earplugs and instructions to go to sleep. Take children into their room (they still sleep in ours) and deposit them into crib. Declare this "Baby Boot Camp" night.
10. Two hours later, after repeated attempts to cajole your son into sleeping in the crib (on his back, on his stomach, with a blanket, without a blanket, letting him cry, rocking him to sleep only to have him wake up when you try to lay him down . . .) give in and let the boy sleep in his car seat. Only by now he's totally awake and upset, so swing the car seat back and forth for about 10 minutes, during which you think your back will break in two.
11. Pause for a moment to be grateful that your daughter has been asleep since 11:00.
12. Get up at 2:30 with shouting son. Feed him.
13. Get up at 2:45 with crying daughter. Feed her, but first conk her head on the wooden arm of the glider so that she screams for a while.
14. Do the up and down routine with daughter until 3:30.
15. Collapse. Sleep.
16. Get up at 5:00 with shouting son. Swing car seat again.
17. Get up at 6:00 with crying daughter.
18. Give daughter to husband at 6:20. Try to sleep a bit more, but instead get up with awake son at 6:30.
19. Take shower. Feel vaguely human. Pack up kids for day care and go out to car. Discover parking ticket on said car. Curse humanity.
I am seriously going insane. I thought about not coming to work, but I'm really behind and when I negotiated my work-one-day-a-week-at-home deal, my new boss, who HAS MY JOB, said flat-out to me, "I've supervised people who work at home before and their productivity always drops. We'll be reviewing this arrangement in six months." GREAT. So here I am, blogging! Heh.
I'm so tired and so scared. I'm at my wits' end with the sleeping stuff. I don't want to do cry it out, but I'm running out of options because I cannot work full-time, take care of our house, take care of my husband, and take care of my kids on four to five fragmented hours of sleep. I just can't. But I also know that Riley is capable of screaming at the top of his little lungs for two hours because he did that once when I was home alone with him. That will just do me in if he does that. And if he doesn't sleep after screaming for hours? Oh, I can't even contemplate.
I think tonight GH and I are going to divide and conquer. GH is going to keep Maddie in our room (she sleeps pretty well when Mr. Yellyellyell isn't right next to her) and I'm going to sleep with Riley in the twins' room. We'll see how that goes.
Is parenting specifically designed to make you feel like you can't do anything right?
I just don't know if I can do this. I really don't. Boy do I wish that we lived near my family.