Thursday, February 17, 2011

Please tell me I'm not the only one

~Who feels more wound up than an over-tuned violin string.

~Who doesn't know if she can do bedtime by herself one more night.

~Who is crazy, insanely jealous of the husband who is on (yet another) business trip because he gets to eat three meals a day without someone complaining, crying or wanting to nurse in the middle of it.  And he gets to sleep.  In a bed.  By himself.

~Who contemplated leaving the sick seven year old in charge of the two year old and the sleeping baby to run to the store to get a Diet Coke.  Because really, who runs out of Diet Coke on a day like this?

~Who thinks that one more illness- any illness, in any of us, even the snotty nose variety- might prompt me to run, screaming, to any place warm and sanitized.  Either that or I might move in next door to the pediatrician's office.

~Who has a Visiting Teacher who called, and upon hearing that my husband was out of town and that my kids were sick, responded, "I'm sorry.  I hope things get better.  I'll count this for our visit and we'll talk next month."

~Who has an unidentifiable stink coming from somewhere in the kitchen area and is too afraid to go find out what it is.

~Who looks somewhat put together (I have to teach this afternoon, or I'd still be wearing my trashy pajamas) but feels like they're falling apart.

~Who sometimes looks at their four kids and wonders who they are and when their mom is going to come pick them up because you're pretty sure you're just 19 years old and your biggest problem is the stupid Rode Caprice that you're supposed to have prepared for your violin lesson the next morning.

~Who, upon seeing all four of your kids crying at once this morning, (one because he's a baby and that's what he does, one because he's a two year old and he woke up too early and wanted Dad to get him out of the crib when Daddy was on a plane to Vegas, one because it was her second day with strep throat and she feels miserable, and one because she's nine and that's what she does lately, and because she was faking sick so she could stay home with everyone else) wanted to hide in corner with a trashy novel and play iPhone games all day long.

~Who is worried that she'll put on five pounds from all the chocolate she's contemplating eating to feel better.

~Who is worried that the leaning mountain of clean and dirty laundry in this house might fall over and suffocate someone if they breathe on it wrong.

~Who is contemplating taking explosives to the house and rebuilding, because really, it might be faster than cleaning everything up.

~Who is really doubting her ability to be the "strong one."

~Who apologizes for whining, and promises to pull herself together sometime soon.

5 comments:

  1. Your visiting teacher is clueless.

    I was reading and contemplating driving over to bring you a diet coke. Do you know if the road between here and there is clear of snow? And if I drove to your town and rolled down my window and shouted your name, would you hear me?

    I am SO sorry your husband ran away from home again, regardless of why! And I bet it's warm in Vegas. The stinker.

    Seriously, Stacy, I think we should get together and complain. Or bake cookies. OR do both. What do you think? We're not that far away. My couch is your couch. :)

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  2. First of all, I know you're somewhere around here. Email me and tell me where. If I can bring you soup or something I will. I promise.

    Also, days like the one you described are excruciating, but if there's ANY way you can get some good sleep, that always helps me a lot. Go to bed early, get up and just deal while you've got the energy. My day today was pretty tolerable, and my husband finally comes home tomorrow (but he emailed me about another upcoming trip), BUT we've all had days like this sometimes and it's a testament to miracles that we survive and carry on.

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  3. You are certainly not alone. I am so sorry you have been having a hard time.

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  4. Definitely NOT the only one. I feel this way way too often and have spent far too many bedtimes solo to not feel a bit bitter about it.

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  5. Oh, boy does that sound familiar! When my children were younger I wasn't sure I would live through it all. But I did and you will. So sorry that your VTs didn't help though.

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