In which it slowly dawns on me: hormones?

I had a major case of The Rage again today. Actually, I think it started yesterday, when I forced Molly into my Cleaning All The Things Boot Camp while Jack was in preschool because I SWEAR if one more person got out one more toy without putting it away I was going to drop everything, including the baby, and flee to Fiji. 

My tolerance for 1) mess and 2) dealing with the people who think cleaning up THEIR OWN MESSES is BENEATH THEM is at an all time low. Or take the all time low and multiply by a frajillion and THAT is how low. I am angry and resentful and lashing out and OMG SUCH A PLEASURE TO LIVE WITH! 

I thought I was tired. 

So I was kind of excited about TODAY, because today was a no-preschool day and that meant if the kids slept late I wouldn't have to wake them up and I wouldn't have to go crazy getting everyone ready in the morning. It's totally not unusual for the big kids to sleep till seven-thirty or eight and the baby sleep till past that. I KNOW. 

Of course, this morning everyone woke up at six. By 9:30 I was about to commit myself. I should say: they weren't being UNDULY horrible. Yes, Molly is doing this THING where she cries at the drop of a hat, about every single stupid little thing and I don't know what it's about (is it her Three thing?) and it is SO wearing. And Jack is his usual bouncy, happy, chipper sasspants which I ALSO have no patience for anymore, but that's the thing. Where did my patience go? I used to have SOME. I feel like I have NONE. 

It happened to be sunny and glorious, however, and I thought that just the thing everyone needed was a nice walk outside. Even though I did NOT want to get everyone ready to go outside and did NOT want to put a super tired Emma in her little coat-suit, I knew she'd fall asleep in the stroller and the big kids needed to get OUT. 

So then OF COURSE, not three minutes into our walk, Jack starts complaining about how TIRED he is and how he's HUNGRY (it's BARELY ten in the morning) and his FEET hurt and Molly looks like she's about to cry and DUDES. Only the skinniest of threads was holding me together in the middle of the street in broad daylight. 

Which is when I thought: hormones?

I NEVER think ANYTHING is hormones. Ever! IT WILL NEVER OCCUR TO ME. Someone else has to say it or write it in a blog post or a comment before I'm all, "OH!" So my next thought was 1) I am improving in my physical self-awareness or 2) things are REALLY NOT GOOD. 

It took me many many more hours before I came up with a suitable explanation for having Hormonal Issues, however, and you will laugh, because it is SO OBVIOUS: I think we are done nursing. I THINK. I have never had a huge supply which I have never done anything about. Emma's been getting a bottle since her first HOURS in the hospital (needed to make sure her glucose levels were stable and my milk hadn't come in) and ever since that first week or two when I decided I had to give her a bottle to maintain my sanity, I haven't really looked back. I am SO OKAY with bottles. 

But nursing is free! Sometimes I like doing it! Emma can be really cute! And shoot, I breastfed my other kids for at least six months, I don't want to shortchange this one, right? Except... 

Yeah, I think it's That Time. I'm pretty sure my supply has decreased more over the last couple of weeks. I still nurse her at various times, but in the evenings when she's clearly Super Hungry, we go straight to bottles. And now that she's sleeping longer and going longer without eating, well, there you go. And I HEAR weaning makes you HORMONAL. 

I have no memories of this with the other kids. I don't! I keep trying to remember how I stopped and all I come up with is, "Well, one day, it just happened?"

I'm not weepy or any of those things... but I am SUPER SHORT-TEMPERED with the kids. I also want to EAT EVERYTHING. Though who knows if that's hormones or my old friend Eating My Feelings. 

Oh, and the other thing that makes me think it's hormones is that, for some crazy reason, I blossomed into Funny Cheery Happy Mom! tonight. WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Seriously, pretty soon everything that came out of Jack's mouth was comedy gold. When Phillip came home I flat out told him that I had never wished more to be at work than I had today, but I said so with a GOOFY GRIN, like OH, ISN'T THAT FUNNY?! 

I was TRYING, I'll say that for myself. We made cookies - the one thing the kids and I do together that we all equally enjoy. Then we did a Shred because I was serious about eating all the things AND WE MADE COOKIES and my kids are HILARIOUS when they are exercising with me. And Phillip came home early. And Emma and Molly took extra long naps. I mean, there was a lot of good. 

But I think I will inform Phillip of the Possible Hormone Situation, because he always likes to know it's Not Him, and see how it goes. I'm not sure if we're really done nursing or just doing it once a day or what. I don't really want to be DONE done, but I can SEE being done done. If that makes sense.

Tomorrow after preschool we're picking up Phillip at work, dropping the big kids with my folks, and heading to Portland for the NDCF winter retreat. CRAZYPANTS. We're not actually ATTENDEES - I had the opportunity to pray behind the scenes and I am all over that and Phillip is just going to hang out with Emma and, as he put it, "attract the college girls with my cute baby".  Honestly, I am just excited about not having to pick up anyone's MESS for two days. WAHOO.

And I LIKE my curtain headboard, OKAY?

Saturday morning I woke up angry. I don't know. I JUST WAS, OKAY? 

Phillip kept saying, "Go get a coffee!" "Go out!" and being all NICE about it, but because I was feeling Angry and perhaps a bit Surly about everything, I felt like shouting, "I DON'T WANT TO GO OUT! I WANT EVERYONE ELSE TO GO OUT!" 

(I did not say this.)

But it's true, I just wanted to pick up the living room and have it STAY toy-free for more than five minutes. I wanted to clean the kitchen and just have it STAY clean. I wanted to feel caught up on laundry and I wanted to put all the papers on my desk away and I wanted to pack up maternity clothes and clear off the dining room table and pick up my bedroom and GAH WHY AM I ALWAYS CLEANING UP AFTER EVERYBODEEEEEEE!!!

(My mother just read that and is now thinking to herself, "VINDICATION.")

Instead! I stomped around and yelled a lot, but at some point things got better (my in-laws came over and played with the kids? I went for a run? I invited friends for dinner thereby giving myself Something Fun To Do?)

And then I woke up sort of angry TODAY. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Well, last night I had freaky deaky dreams that left me way un-rested and then I thought I was going to bust open a few preschooler noggins in church this morning. This is particularly unfair, as my kids 1) are getting sick and 2) were JUST FINE in church. I don't know what it was. Like I suddenly decided that everyone needed to sit stock still and pay attention and quit hanging on me and what, you need another Kleenex AGAIN? Blargh! I wasn't ANGRY in church so much as... TIRED. I was tired. There you go. 

Hours later I took myself out on a restorative trip to Target where I purchased all sorts of clearance items for my house, including a five dollar tablecloth that I turned into a curtain "headboard" in my bedroom. I would post a picture except 1) it's kind of too dark right now and 2) I want to find my bedroom BEFORE pictures and 3) you probably won't like it anyway and i am not in the mood for anything other than "OBVS YOU ARE THE NEXT MARTHA."

It wasn't that long ago that we stayed forever after church talking with all the other parents of small children. I looked forward to this! But I honestly can't remember the last time that I didn't just want to fling myself at the exit and zoom back home. I feel so frazzled after church, even today when I SWEAR my kids were TOTALLY FINE. Maybe it's the whole process - getting up, getting ready, getting everyone in the car, hauling everyone into Mass, getting everyone settled with their crayons (with which to deface the worship aids). The people I used to talk to all the time are probably all, "WHATEVS, CHEUNGS" and we will never be invited to coffee hour again. 

I keep feeling like this is just my life and it's not particularly hard or particularly easy and I get as much sleep as any other mom in my position and actually I have so much help and my kids were so fun today so where does the ragey tiredness come from?!?!

Phillip and Emma and I are headed to Portland this weekend and we are reeeeeally looking forward to it. I don't think it's about sending the big kids to the grandparents for two nights so much as just a Change of Scenery. I feel awful saying that, again, because I just HAD a change of scenery, just a few weeks ago I was sitting by a POOL eating a giant stack of PANCAKES delivered to my LOUNGE CHAIR. But what can I say, another little mini-vacation is sounding pretty nice. 

Explanation for tonight's post: Phillip is working late

I've been designing my sister's wedding invitations. I wasn't going to do it (three kids! new baby!), then I decided why not (it's probably a better use of my Pinterest time, eh?), then I was going to use Kate's cafe lights, then I decided those weren't going to work, then I made my OWN cafe lights, then I hated them, then I went through several different versions of cafe lights, then I was unhappy with the text placement, then I sent my sister so many proofs she lost track, but I think this ninety-seventh version is the right one, or at least the done-is-better-than-perfect one... My sister and I occupy the far and opposite ends of the Caring About Invitations spectrum and where she is all, "Looks fine to me!" I am all, "But the lights aren't GLOWING RIGHT" and looking up graphic design courses at the local community colleges and budgeting for the proper software and despairing that I will ever EVER be good at anything EVER. 

Thank God the next step in the process requires only the fine motor skills necessary for applying rubber cement.

***

I'm re-reading Prep. Not for any particular reason - I just ran out of things to read one day and it was the only book on the Kindle that I thought would do the trick. But I kept reading it and I think I am as struck as I was the first time. I was talking about it with the FPC tonight and she said, "It was good, but it was so depressing, I wouldn't want to read it again." But for me, it's more that there are depressing things about yourself when you are a self-absorbed teenage girl, and this [still] self-absorbed [former] teenage girl continues to be absolutely riveted. 

***

Phillip wants you to read this article about Jeremy Lin. Also, he wants to tell you that he, too, was [still!] personally offended when Jet Li did not close the deal with Aaliyah.

***

My kids like this book and I enjoy reading it to them:

My sister, the one getting married, apparently got super bored that week everyone was snowed in and started buying books online for her niece and nephew. For a while we were getting a book every day. This was one of them. I think Minerva Louise is my new favorite book character. She is certainly my new favorite character who is also a chicken. Honorable Mention goes to Mrs. McNosh Hangs Up Her Wash.

***

Now I'm going to sit here and watch more of the Inspector Montalbano series (in Italian) (with English subtitles) that my parents bought me, my parents being the people who installed and encouraged my devotion to Italian murder mysteries. What is fun is that they are filmed in the town next door to the town I lived in when I was ten and eleven years old and I can practically taste the pizza. Excepting the fact that TV Montalbano does not look a THING like book Montalbano, they're half decent. In case you were wondering. Which I'm sure you were not. Fine then! Go have more fun than me on Thursday night!

This is why I ate cookie dough for dinner SHUT UP

A few days ago I was whining on Twitter, as I do, about dealing with the big kids. I think the word I used on Twitter was 'discipline' but I think a better word might be "making them act right." You know what I'm talking about. It's not like they're being NASTY or MEAN or whatever, they're just being twerps! I don't ENJOY repeating myself nine thousand times a day, you know? They're loud, they're wild, they get all "but where's my DWINK, MOMMY?" like "how dare you go about your day while I am sitting here just a tidge thirsty, HMM?"

I was reminded of this today when I went to put EJ down for her nap. (For something like the fifth time, let it be noted.) I thought: hey! Instead of yelling at the kids to be quiet WHILE I'm holding the baby, why don't I yell at them AHEAD OF TIME? Smartness! 

So I cornered them in the living room, used my Very Important Mommy Voice, and told them I needed them to be quiet while I tried to get Emma to sleep. They nodded their heads which is universal for I Understand You, unless you are a three- or four-year-old, in which case it translates to, "Get out of our hair, woman." 

I went to wrap up the baby and get her down and I swear, not TWO MINUTES LATER, someone is standing right outside the bedroom door, sobbing. Sobbing! And you know, these kids have lived in my house some years now. They can't possibly believe that at this point I'm going to literally drop the baby and come running to their aid on account of a little sobbing, especially sobbing that is happening DIRECTLY AFTER I tell them to NOT DO THINGS LIKE SOB FTLOG! 

(Note: no one was HURT. No one was on FIRE. No one was BLEEDING. No one had anything to SOB ABOUT, TRUST ME.)

So I pulled the door open a bit with my foot and gave the offender (JACK) the biggest meanest scariest look I could muster and Gestured Angrily so that he'd LEAVE. 

And he did! Lovely! (Well not without 1) a Terribly Wounded Look and 2) more sobbing). I went back to putting the baby to sleep and then! Not THIRTY SECONDS LATER! Molly starts shouting, "NO! NO JACKSUN! NO!" And there was running! And all sorts of LOUDNESS GAAAAHHHH!!! I had to do my whole Angry Look/Angry Gesture thing ALL OVER AGAIN and this time it was LESS EFFECTIVE and I also suspect they didn't even NOTICE but I still had a baby in my arms SOOOO...

It's just TYPICAL. Typical afternoon in the Cheung household. BLARGH! Emma was so tired it was a snap to put her down (for five minutes anyway) and then I ordered the big kids downstairs. AWAY WITH YOU! I shouted. BE GONE! GO AWAY FROM ME! YOU ARE MAKING ME CRAAAAAAZEEEEEE!!!

They went downstairs with (you guessed it) more Wounded Looks and Crying and OH COME ON. I'm a softie but I'm not THAT big a softie. I threw myself across the sofa and relished the five minutes of quiet I'd get before someone started to sob downstairs and beg me to come wipe their butts or get a Kleenex or MOLLY PUSHED ME or whatever was going to come next. 

But they were quiet! And you KNOW I used the resulting many minutes to get important stuff done, like browse Pinterest. I was so happy! And then Emma woke up. 

And then LAAAATER... I realized that those kids were being AWFULLY QUIET. Like, SUSPICIOUSLY QUIET. I yelled from upstairs to see what was up, but no one answered. I'm not proud to say that I then IGNORED the quiet for a while longer. I mean, I am not one to look a quiet horse in the mouth. But then I started to get nervous. Had someone drugged my children in my absence? Did they eat some sort of magical quiet piece of lint? Secretly let themselves into the backyard? Got stuck in the utility closet? 

I went downstairs to investigate and BOTH KIDS are IN THEIR BEDS ASLEEP. It was 4:30 PM.

(The next thing that happened is Phillip called to tell me he'd be an late. THE END.)

Hot oil treatments

So I got, like, six or seven emails from You People, all confessing your Yelling As Of Late. Don't worry, I won't tell. But I am thinking maybe we should form a support group? Or something? 

I have hopped on my treadmill every day this week. I know that's not a LOT, but it actually feels like a pretty huge accomplishment right now. I even used the treadmill yesterday, in the afternoon because I had a church meeting last night and I knew I wouldn't have time when Phillip got home. Of course, I was only on there 16 minutes before Jack reported a baby crying upstairs, but I figure that is still 16 minutes when I was not parked on my butt in front of the television. 

(People I am obsessed with a show called Homeland, starring Angela Chase and some vaguely creepy dude who gives me the heebie jeebies. Phillip has already seen the entire season which irks me to NO END and also makes it IMPERATIVE that I see every episode STAT.)

Also! A lot of you suggested a babysitter or a mother's helper type person. At first I was all, "Harrumph." But then I thought about it a little more. I have actually thought about it off and on for a WHILE now, but I was never sure how I might actually make such a thing happen. I mean, most of the time that feels wrong! I am a SAHM! What else am I doing?! But then I get over myself and worry about other things, more legitimate things, like can I PAY a babysitter once a week and who would this babysitter even BE?

But I have an idea in mind. Specifically I have a Person and a Rate of Pay in mind and it might be a few weeks before I can advance my idea and tell you about it, but there is at least a POSSIBILITY and also THANK YOU because I needed someone else to say, "Yeah, you should totally do that, and also it is TOTALLY OKAY TO DO THAT."

As for the JOB aspect... I think I have mentioned a time or two that I am not at ALL inclined towards Work or Career or Earning My Own Living or any of those grown up responsible things. I mean, I did before I had kids, but not because I WANTED TO or because I was GOOD AT ANYTHING. And I happen to feel the same way now. There are a small number of things I like to do that someone ALSO might pay me to do. But I would need more schooling or more experience blah blah blah. So a career type thing is definitely on hold. If I even want one. But a JOB... I HAVE thought about this. Like at one point my church was looking for a part timer and I thought HEY THAT WOULD BE PERFECT. Except, seriously, every time I start to think about a part time job or browse Craigslist or something like that, I have this overwhelming sense of not now. And I don't THINK that's just my inherent laziness speaking. 

ANYWAY. 

Here. I will tell you a funny story about today. 

So my friend comes over this morning and our kids are playing so nicely together and her baby is only two weeks older than MY baby and we were having SUCH a nice time. Then the kids got hungry and I started making the obligatory mac n' cheese (and not the organic kind either, only the best stuff when you visit the Cheungs!) and I decided I would go All Out and make lunch for the grown ups too. I was SUPER PROUD of myself for even having food to offer. Anyway, I had to make honey mustard dressing, which SOUNDS like a lot of work for someone who hates to cook, but is actually NOT a lot of work and tastes SO MUCH BETTER. 

So I'm making the dressing and maybe I spilled a teaspoon or so of olive oil. And I resolved to clean it up later. And of course forgot, because I like to clean as much as I like to cook. 

Anyway, later I am helping clean up before our friends go home and catch sight of my daughter and gee, she's looking particularly urchin-ish. Like, filthy. Like, I didn't just give her a bath this morning. WTH?

So I say, "Molly? Did you put something in your hair?"

"No."

"MOLLY."

"No, I didn't."

"Molly, DID YOU PUT SOMETHING IN YOUR HAIR?"

"..."

"..."

"...I put that stuff you were making."

"The stuff I was making?"

"The stuff you were making."

"Can you show me the stuff?"

"..."

"In the kitchen? We're going in the kitchen? OHHHH."

So yeah, my kid wiped up the olive oil and put it IN HER HAIR. This is either totally digusting or she's into super-advanced-for-her-age beauty treatments. 

SOTC (state of the children)

I was going to do this big post where I took a photo of every outfit I am bringing to Palm Springs, but then I decided that 1) no one cares and 2) that was excessive navel-gazing even for me. 

SO ANYWAY. Phillip's been gone since Sunday morning and HOO BOY am I loving both sets of grandparents right now. We stayed with my parents until Tuesday lunchtime, and Phillip's parents just spent the entire afternoon and evening entertaining my kids while I packed and ran on the treadmill and generally stayed away from the noise. 

Sometimes Phillip is slightly interested in jobs that would take us out of state. Sometimes I REALLY HATE January (and November and December and February and March and sometimes April too) and I entertain notions of southern California or shoot, even northern California, but this will never happen. We could never move away from the only people who want to take our kids for overnight! 

In honor of the speech I did not watch last night, the State of the Children goes something like this:

JACK. This kid, you guys. THIS KID. He is KILLING ME. Senator Smartass is perhaps not a name we use in his company, but it sure fits. He's something four and three quarters, average height, needs his pants cinched tight, big dark eyes and thick dark lashes and the stuff that comes out of his mouth drives me BATTY. I mean, half of it is awesome. I do not deny the awesome. He's a thoughtful little kid who remembers a lot of random details and soaks up Facts like nobody's business. He often interrupts me (often when I'm yelling at him) to ask me what a word means. Like today I was getting onto him for being a brat to his grandfather and he's all, "what does Polite mean, Mommy" and I'm like, "JUST GET OUT OF MY HAIR." 

He is constantly singing. Like, CONSTANTLY. He is loud. He is energetic. He is SO MUCH MORE energetic than he ever was, more than I ever thought he'd be. He does not stop! Ever! And when you tell him to be quiet he won't even look at you or acknowledge you because it's like he ALREADY KNOWS, he doesn't have to WASTE ENERGY turning his head in your direction, he ALREADY HEARD ME he KNOWS. Argh! It burns me up! His smartassery drives me around the bend on a daily basis. His know-it-all-ness, his bossiness, his refusal to accept your corrections, his "okay, okay, stop lecturing me so I can go right back to doing exactly what I want" business is INFURIATING! 

Of course, I also find it utterly charming as this kid is EXACTLY LIKE ME. Even my mother says so. (Obvs she says this gleefully, in a SO SHALL YOU RECEIVE YOUR COMEUPPANCE! tone of voice.)

MOLLY. Miss Mollymoo is the girliest girl of all the girls. I've spent a considerable amount of time wondering how she got this way. She does not have a particularly girly mother (several sequinned dresses notwithstanding.) I never played with dolls the way Molly plays with her babies. I don't remember demanding to wear my dress up dresses all the livelong day. Did I even HAVE dress up dresses? She wants to be a princess, but she hasn't been super exposed to the princess phenomenon. She's pink and purple and sparkly and glittery and where is her wand and not that clippy, Mommy, and I want to wear THAT dwess and Mommy you should wear THAT dwess and not those shoes, Mommy. 

I also spend a lot of time wondering if I'm doing right by Molly. Her brother is so Over The Top in his personality sometimes that Molly is just an element of that. She does everything he does, a split second after he does it. She is always content to let him go first. When he's not around she often seems a bit lost. And I hate that when I try to figure out where she is developmentally or whatever, it's always in comparison to Jack. 

But this morning we dropped Jack at preschool and ran an errand at Target and stopped in the Target Starbucks for a treat and it was like my heart was just FULL of Molly. She sort of ignores you now when you talk to her, like she's either pretending not to hear you or she really can't be bothered to answer, she insists on having a helper every time she uses the potty, her hair makes me crazy, and ENOUGH ALREADY with the "but I don't like those pants, Mommy" every single morning, but I have loved every single stupid minute of taking that girl out shopping and for coffee and for treats and just Her and Me time. It's the best. It is so much fun. It is so sweet. I just love her. I was telling her this morning when I was buckling her back into her car seat, that I just love my girl, and she goes, "Just girls! No Daddy! No Jackson!" Yes, kid. You are my mall buddy for life.

OH EMMA. I think she has skipped 6 month outfits entirely. I put one on her this morning and her FOOT was busting out of the FOOT POCKET, so I dragged the storage box out from under the bed and started rummaging around for the 9 month clothes and HOLY CATS MY 4-MONTH-OLD IS WEARING 9 MONTH JAMMIES. This is probably no big deal to a lot of you, but I am used to SCRAWNY children. Although Emma's not particularly WIDE, just LONG.

The last two-ish months were so stinking hard with sleep. I mean, I was having existential crises left and right. The lack of sleep and the constant re-napping was permeating every minute of my day and every thought in my brain. But for some reason she kicked it into gear on Sunday night and now she, like, GOES TO SLEEP. I mean, it hasn't even been a week, but she's now taking Actual Naps and going to bed and Actually Sleeping. I will never assume good sleep is a trend, but I will take it when I can get it. I hope she keeps it up this weekend for Phillip!

And dudes, she is the HAPPIEST BABY. I mean, even when she's fussy and not sleeping and all that, this baby is a smile machine. It's so awesome. She just started laughing and she has this deep gurgly belly laugh. It's not this cute little baby laugh, it's growly and phlegmy and AGAIN: utterly charming. She does this other thing where she thrashes around in JOY - usually in the morning when I'm changing her out of her heavy nighttime diaper. You'd think she was going to kick a hole through the changing pad and thwack herself off the changing table. I LOVE IT. It is SO CUTE!

And all three of them together is SO trippy. I mean, these are my KIDS. With MY genetic material! HOW CRAZY IS THAT!!! Oh wow I'm going to miss them this weekend. Well, after I've slept through the night and had a poolside cocktail or four. Then I'll miss them. 

 

 

Optimism! I have some!

Phillip had to be at the airport at 9:45. I dropped him off and headed directly to my parents' house, Sanctuary Of Free And Cheerfully-Given Childcare. I've been feeling nervous about this week of solo parenting for a long time, probably since the LAST week of solo parenting. However! I'm feeling okay about it NOW and here is why: 

1. We are staying at my parents' house for two nights. TWO. This is one part giant hassle to ninety-seven parts Just Not Being Alone. I LIKE being alone, but not for five days in a row. I may have to type this in front of the Mike Huckabee show, but my mother is rocking my not-sleeping baby in front of the Mike Huckabee show so I CAN type, so I have absolutely no complaints. Besides, Mike Huckabee has his moments. 
2. The rest of my week contains preschool, a visit from the in-laws, a visit from the Baby Observer Therapist Lady who I would sincerely like to adopt but probably can't until the Year Of Baby Watching is over, and a long-scheduled playdate. 
3. My week will be capped off by a weekend in a locale some forty degrees warmer than it is here. The thought of reading a book in the sunshine will keep me going for a long time. 
4. Did I mention a not-sleeping baby? But yesterday she took a long nap, fell asleep at bedtime by herself, and slept from nine to three-thirty in the morning which: HOLY MOLY WHO TOOK MY BABY AND GAVE ME THIS BABY WHO SLEEPS? I WILL KEEP HER! 
5. I'm not saying this is a trend. I am saying IT GIVES ME HOPE.
6. If all else fails, I bought a new swing. In which I saw her fall asleep on her own with my very eyes.
7. We are not snowbound! We can go places! WE CAN GO TO TARGET. 
8. Also I have some good TV stored up. 

A long time ago @anneoftroy told me that she always planned to DO something when her husband was out of town and what *I* always plan to do is watch GOOD TV SHOWS and EAT TREATS. I'm simple. 

In other news, I just got home from attempting to buy a swimsuit. This was not the PURPOSE of my visit to the store, my PURPOSE was to buy batteries because SOMEONE left the swing on all night even though there was no baby IN the swing... anyway. I was showing my mom where I'm staying this weekend and bragging about how hot it was going to be (at least to a ghostly pale Washingtonian like me) and she said, "are you going to go swimming in THAT pool" and I said "oh God not I am not wearing a swimsuit what are you smoking" and she just pointed at the picture of THAT POOL and I thought YOU'RE RIGHT MOM. Why should I let my thunderthighs, my saddlebags, my love handles, and what breastfeeding has done to the rest of me AHEM keep me from truly enjoying THAT POOL? Am I that girl? Am I really that vain? Am I really going to give up THAT POOL?

The truth is, Internet, I am totally that girl. But I thought I'd give it a go anyway. Perhaps I could find some giant piece of interestingly draped black spandex that covered at least 75% of my body. I didn't find anything like that, but I did try on a few other things. They weren't... SO bad. I didn't buy anything, but I didn't cross off the idea of perhaps looking in a DIFFERENT store. 

And then I ate the chocolate that Phillip was SUPPOSED to take on his trip with him so I wouldn't eat it all but forgot in the car when we dropped him off this morning. OOPS. 

Not the kindest day

I've been running and it's making a huge difference. I think. I guess there's not much I can do about afternoons like this one, where my big kids sleep nearly three hours and my baby is waking up every 15 minutes. Running can't really help THAT sort of rage. 

But last week I was getting The Twinges. Let's review: my personal brand of mental illness manifests itself as Fear, both physical and mental. So I started feeling the tension in my shoulder blades and the dread in the pit of my stomach and my thoughts started going to Dark Places and I thought: hmm. Should probably go running. 

Last week I was proactive and hit up all my Anxiety Prevention Resources and I'm feeling better, mostly because I've slogged through a half hour on the treadmill for three days in a row. It's not a long time, it's not very fast, it's certainly not pretty, but I'm pretty sure that this will do the trick. If I'm consistent. 

That's been the problem - there is NO consistency in my life ANYWHERE. For a while I thought, well, I'll just run whenever I finally get the baby down. But even when I DO get the baby down, I can't relax, because her MO is to wake up after 10 minutes and start complaining. And I was remembering that the only thing that made running a HABIT last time was knowing that that half hour was a half hour BY MYSELF. It's one thing to go outside and listen to very loud, very vulgar music and recharge - it's quite another to listen to that vulgar music while also trying to figure out what the big kids are asking for while I'm on the treadmill, and oh, is that the baby I hear on the monitor? 

What I decided is that I'm going to run when Phillip gets home from work. It is the ONLY consistent thing in my life right now, that eventually, even if it's not the same time every day, he WILL come home from work. I'll run into a problem in a few weeks when he goes on his business trip, but I'll make another plan for that week. For right now, this is going to work. 

Phillip, who gets stressed out when I tell him I'm stressed, does NOT get stressed out when I just tell him what I need. So I say, "I'm feeling anxious so I'm going to start running when you get home from work. You're in charge of feeding the kids." And he says, "I can do that." WHICH IS AWESOME.

It won't always be like this. I'm hopeful that eventually Emma will start napping at regular-ish times, and then I'll be able to revise everything and we can have dinner as a family again. Right now it's not the most important thing. 

Speaking of Emma. BLARGH. So I am very much seriously considering leaving her with Phillip when I go to Palm Springs with my friends at the end of this month. The reasons being:

• Phillip will have been out of town all that week. Single parenting Mon-Thurs, then single parenting all weekend does not sound like an awesome time. 
• I am not at ALL worried about other people taking care of her. 
• The big kids can go to grandparents' so Phillip would only even have to concentrate on HER.
• She'd be safer at home, away from any plane germs. 
• She'd stay on whatever "schedule" she has. 
• I'd have more fun with my friends and THEY wouldn't be woken up in the middle of the night by a snarffly hungry baby. 
• I think it'd be good for Phillip to spend this time with Emma on his own. 
• I'd be WAY less stressed about traveling. 

My con list has exactly one thing on it:

• I WOULD MISS MY BABY.

So. Have not decided. I mean, I think I HAVE decided, I just don't want to ADMIT IT because OH THE GUILT AND ALSO ALL THE MISSING OF MY BABY.

Today's Resolution is located elsewhere

Yes, it's Day Four of Resolutions Week, but today's resolution is a churchy one and I relegated it to the churchy blog. SO THERE. 

I need to brain vomit all over this space anyway. Up until about four o'clock this afternoon the only thing I'd done with myself all day long was try and get Emma to sleep. I don't know what it was - she's sick? She was off? She was hungry when I thought she was tired? And tired when I thought she was hungry? - though I suspect the reason is just: SHE IS A BABY. 

But it was so frustrating and several times I considered just putting her down and walking away and several times I did just that, enough so that I think I have a tension-multiplier on my hands (and not a tension-reducer, ie: the baby for whom CIO works) oh MAN I am so tired. 

She only cried if I left her alone, of course. Otherwise she was QUITE happy to loll in my arms and grin at me when I tried to wedge the pacifier in her mouth. The kitchen is a disaster, I have two laundry baskets full of [clean, at least] clothes in the living room, I have a half-painted cabinet in the garage, I have a neglected treadmill, I have no dinner on the stove, I just do NOT know how to be all, "Well, the baby didn't nap so I didn't get anything done. Tra la la!"

Which is WEIRD because if the baby WAS napping it's not like my house would be sparkling or anything. HA HA HA! But at least I could attribute the filth to my own laziness (over which I have control) than a wide awake baby (over which I have absolutely NO control). The difference between thinking I can change at any time and thinking I will never have a minute to myself for the rest of my life.

When I did finally get her to sleep, the big kids were all, "what do we do NOW, Mommy? What can we play with NOW? Where are we going to GO today?" I busted out an unopened Christmas present - a Play-Doh dentistry set. BIZARRE.

I haven't been doing so great, Internet. For one thing, it's SUPER DARK. We had a freakishly dry December, and because I remember walking to get Jack from preschool all the time I know this is true. But it's turned rainy and windy and DARK and dreary and ugly and DARK and that REALLY messes with my head. I expect to not sleep at night, but having to placate the no-napper all day long is taking its toll. I'm still (STILL!) undecided about what school I want Jack to attend next year, something I need to decide in the next couple of months. Phillip has another two business trips planned. I can't figure out when I can use the treadmill. Emma's erratic naps make it really hard to leave the house. It's all piling up and I'm so tired. 

My mom is visiting tomorrow and we're going to go to the open house at my parish school in the morning. Even though I think there is only a half percent chance that Jack would go to that school, I'm still interested in seeing what it's like. I think I should stop there before you receive the full School Panic Blog Post. Shudder. 

I have a meeting tonight so I better get dinner ready. Oh wait. So sometime in the middle of the night I checked my phone to see the time before feeding Emma, and I saw that someone had posted the minutes of my meeting. And then I PANICKED because I went out with friends last night instead of going to my meeting! I was drinking way too much wine instead of participating in the CHURCH COMMITTEE to which I was INVITED and have pretty much BLOWN OFF ever since the summer! I swear I laid there feeding Emma and droooooowning in guilt. 

Until this morning, when I realized that the minutes were of December's meeting, not January's. THIS IS HOW TIRED I AM, PEOPLE. 

 

Time to make more toffee bars, obvs

Oh you guys are SO NICE TO ME. I should be miserable more often! 

Wait! AM NOT MISERABLE. Am merely struggling to get over one measly roadblock (newbornhood) and one insignificant schedule snafu (the holidays) and then! WORLD DOMINATION.

My brother and his family stayed over last night so I had a house full of people in the morning and you'd THINK this would be stressful, but it was actually pretty awesome. EVEN THOUGH all of my children slept in and I had to get out of bed because I didn't want my guests to feel weird in my living room without me. (Although: this is my brother we're talking about. He's been invading my space since he learned to walk.) But when Jack and Molly finally got up they had a cousin to play with, and I had grown ups to talk to and a reason to not rush around the house trying to Get Stuff Done AND THEN! My sister came over! With my nieces and they were just here to work on a gift for their dad but still, it was really really really super nice to be around People. 

Especially people who hold the baby so I can take a 15 minute nap on my couch. Which turned out to be a lifesaver a little later in my day, when Emma would not take an afternoon nap. WOULD NOT! How dare I even ATTEMPT a nap! WHO DO I THINK I AM?!?!

See, I thought I was being all smart. I declared the big kids would have Quiet Time and we were going to do it RIGHT. Molly was banished to her room with a pile of books. Jack was banished to my room with a pile of books (also the iPad, because I was sure Molly would fall asleep and I'd need some extra Jack ammo to keep him happy). And Emma was down for the count. I plopped onto my couch with a bag of 100 calorie popcorn and the second season of Drop Dead Diva on Netflix. BUT HO HO HO! Molly did not fall asleep! She kept yelling upstairs to find out when she could get up! And Jack, he wanted snacks. Lots and lots of snacks. Also, did I see how awesome he was at that game? Should he do it again just so I could experience the awesome again? And Emma, she who is lately taking beautiful monster naps in the afternoon, decided to wake up every fifteen minutes. I lost count of how many times I re-napped that baby. I finally put her down on the couch next to me, where she slept, but startled awake every time I so much as moved a finger. GAH!

So, no relaxing afternoon for me, but this was still okay! Because my in-laws were coming up! IT WOULD ALL BE FINE!

And people, I am extra super duper proud of myself because right after I fed the baby, I handed her off to MIL and I went downstairs to run (okay, we are using the word 'run' RATHER LOOSELY) two miles. I knew I would be happier if I ran, much happier than if I napped, AND I AM. I WIN TODAY. 

Still tired though. OBVS.

I have the gift of Lots of People this week. I'm an introvert and lots of people wear me out, but for some reason I need them around to keep my head on straight. If I spend too much time alone I start writing blog posts like yesterday's. I get all Despairing. I talk myself into and out of so many different states of being. And yes, this is going to be a crazy week, but the only thing required of me is my [delightful] presence. Jack and Molly are going to have a blast and a half with all their cousins. Someone else will hold Emma so I can address the four frillion Christmas cards I ordered from Costco. IT WILL ALL BE OKAY. 

The only ONLY thing bumming me out right now? NO MORE FUDGE. Wah.