Thursday, April 16, 2015

Long week

I sit here on the couch, 
child asleep in bed, 
laundry in the wash, 
dinner cooked for tomorrow, 
lunches packed, 
and I am 

This week has felt eternally long. 
This MONTH has felt eternally long. 

For one, Adam's Big Law Firm World schedule has been horrendous. 
This is his second straight week arriving home at midnight or later. 
He's tired. 
I'm tired because I don't sleep well when he's gone
It sucks so much. 
And now there are rumblings that a big deal may come up this weekend, 
and I'm just plain in denial. 

On top of that, potty training has been its own rollercoaster.
Aside from Disastrous Day 1, 
I felt like we had "gotten it." 
Only 1-2 accidents a day. 
My pride was BURSTING.
"Well, that wasn't so bad," 
I said to myself, 
"I don't know what people make such a fuss about!" 
(We all know what's coming next)
... Then regression hit. 
Aaron has had multiple days of 4+ accidents at daycare. 
I have to pack him an entire bag of clothes and underwear each day. 
Hell, I pack him more clothes for daycare than I do on overnight business trips!
The daycare providers assure me this is normal. 
"Regression is normal." 
Regression sucks, man.

But since I've already used my quota of "poop" for the week, 
I'll move on...

This particular week held one of our worst days in a long time. 
It haunts me.

Tuesday was a F**KING Bad Day with a capital "FU" 

Work had a lot of very bad moments. 
The kind of frustrating moments where I think: 
'I don't want to do this anymore.' 

I left early for my semi-annual MRI (due to my heightened risk of breast cancer), 
only to find out that I couldn't get my MRI because the woman before me was 45 minutes late and her lateness would push back my appointment and make me miss daycare pickup. 
I was pissssed. 

 I pickup Aaron from daycare, 
and the moment he realizes we can't go to the park 
(its raining and I'm still in work dress clothes)
the temper tantrums begin. 

Every. single. thing. set off a temper tantrum. 
Coming inside from the car set him off. 

I'm not one to hover around temper tantrums, 
so I left to go upstairs to get changed and let him calm down. 
I come downstairs to find him 
removing puzzle pieces one by one 
and chucking them across the room. 
Anger management, anyone? 

We have a timeout. 
A loonnnggg 2-minute time out. 
He sits on my lap and I rub his back, 
coo-ing in my finest guru-yoga voice, 
"Calllmmm down, Aaron, calllmmm down." 
He's calmed down. 
Just I wait...

I start to take off his shoes... 
Temper Tantrum Round 2. 

I take off his jacket. 
Temper Tantrum Round 3. 

At this point, screw the timeouts and the yoga-guru voice, 
I'm just trying to survive the f**king night.  
I strap him into his booster for dinner. 
Temper Tantrum Round 4.

Because we've had so many temper tantrums, there's no time life for Thomas before bed. 
Temper Tantrum Round 5. 

PJs and Sleepsack. 
Temper Tantrum Round 6. 

The temper tantrums wore him out, 
and he was asleep in seconds. 
The next two days after? 
It's like he knew he needed to redeem himself. 
Wednedsay, we went to his BFF William's house after daycare, 
which was an awesome mommy-recharge moment for me as well. 

Today, we went to the park, 
where Aaron insisted on smelling every single flower
Have you ever smelled a dandelion? 
They don't smell like much, 
but that didn't stop Aaron! 

Both days, when we went home, 
he came inside with no fuss
He was happy and silly for dinner. 
Went into bath without protest. 
Was all giggles for bedtime. 

He redeemed himeslf. 

I guess we'll keep him. 

1 comment:

  1. Argh sounds miserable on many fronts, but so glad Aaron redeemed it at least somewhat! That's how toddlers survive, you know... push us to the edge and then right when we're about to give them up for adoption, they do something cute to remind us why we love them! Now if only Big Law Firm would find a way to do the same...