It’s 5:20 AM as I write this. I’m tired. I know I’ve been saying that for 3 years but it’s always the case. This is one of those moments where you just don’t know how/if you can keep your merde together. Your patience is shot before the first round of diapers is changed.
Yesterday was a rotten day at school for Stella. Just when I stopped looking for the Acme Brand anvil up in the sky, SPLAT: my darling daughter chose yesterday to act like a thug. She spit at lunch, almost threw a chair when they wouldn’t give her more fruit right away, and threw and broke her water bottle when her teacher got on to her about running in the classroom. This ushers back in all of our fears and paranoia about another preschool not working out.
I wasn’t phoned at work – almost gleefully à la the Town Crier at Stepford Academy – nor asked to pick her up. I had emailed one of the owners on another matter and she communicated what had happened that way. And I do get the impression they really do want to work with us. And it was just one bad day. But man…..
Part of it is probably that the night before Felix chose to have one of his random 3:00 AM house parties when he’s just AWAKE. I always try like mad to keep him quiet when this happens but I failed at 3:50. He’s found his “Da Da” sound and loves to use it. Before it was done, the whole house was awake then back to sleep and then awake again, somewhat worse for the wear and just thrown off in general.
Part of it is no doubt the cold germ now running rampant in my house. I noticed Stella starting to get a bit snotty Saturday and by yesterday it was full-blown. Now Felix has it. I hate snot. HATE it. One snotty kid is bad enough. Now I have two. It makes me want to move into a house completely made of concrete and stainless steel so I can just hose everything down with bleach when this happens. Gnarly.
It stands to reason that people don’t sleep as well when they don’t feel well. Particularly if you’re my kids and refuse to let any medicine that might help pass your lips. My kids and medicine is like a vampire and holy water. They somehow sense that it’s coming and those jaws snap shut with as much force as a pit bull’s. I hate it. No Ibuprofen, no decongestants. You know, shit that would HELP.
My point? I don’t know that I have one. I’m just having a harder time keeping it upbeat and positive this morning. I’m stressed out. I’m stressed about Stella and school. I’m stressed that tomorrow is Will’s birthday (there is something about my neck of the woods which attracted every damn September birthday in the world, making for a whole season of Crazy before the season of fall holiday Crazy begins). I’m stressed that Stella’s party is in under 2 weeks. I’m stressed about finances with all of this birthday and school swirling around. And don’t even talk to me about Xmas, which is just around the corner.
I think if I could only get about 4 consecutive hours of sleep this would all feel more manageable. I swear I’m going to let Will make good his threat of crushing up Ambien and feeding it to us all one night. Not Jim Jones dosage, mind you. Just go to be and not wake up until sunrise dosage.