… Get back up!
Yesterday was a day I never wish to relive again. I’ve had time to finally dissolve the horrible tears and overwhelming running-over that it was, so that today, I can share my disaster.
My son and I woke up early (and by early, I mean early for all of you — 5:30am) and had our normal morning routine. Breakfast, cartoons, playtime, snack, mom’s coffee, the fight to get dressed… Then by noon-ish I had him in the car and by 12:10 we were finally on the way to get groceries.
Unfortunately, I only had a 24-hour notice that my in-laws were driving down and we needed more groceries and to clean the house for extended-stay guests.
Well, in the five minute drive to get to the store, including two stop lights, he fell asleep. Once he falls asleep, I hate waking him; this time is time he NEEDS and time I need to collect my thoughts, myself, my surrounding world. This time is how I even make sense of life itself; other moms can relate, I am sure. So, I let him fall deeper into sleep for about five minutes while I quickly composed a makeshift shopping list. Then, got him out and put him in the stroller.
Life was still great.
He easily wakes in public places, but thankfully, he stayed asleep thanks to the nice stroller ride and a pair of sunglasses inside. I was left to stuff groceries into my reusable shopping bags and carry them all through the store till check out. Still, not-so-big-a-deal. Life is life sometimes.
We arrive back home an hour from when we left. I picked him up and brought him to his bed… And he REFUSED to sleep anymore. A one hour nap is no good compared to the three(plus) hours he normally sleeps.
I could smell disaster.
So, I put him down and got all the groceries out and put them away whilst trying to move about the kitchen with him under my feet… Man, does that get old quick.
I attempt to rock him back to sleep. Screaming, crying, fussing, swatting… This kid ain’t havin’ that.
I make him a lunchy-snack (we ate a bit before leaving) and he won’t eat. We don’t get along much here out since he’s grouchy; he wants held, but doesn’t, he wants kisses, but doesn’t, he wants a show on, and won’t sit for it, he wants to play, but won’t play nice…
All the while, I am trying to clean for my in-laws arrival. He’s undoing everything I’ve just done. I am at my wits end.
Dinner time rolls around. I gave him chicken nuggets; he ate two. I gave him sliced banana; he ate one slice. I gave him cereal (Life — it’s our favorite), he threw it on the floor. I finally gave in and gave him goldfish. He ate those until he bit his tongue (the first time ever). He cried. Hard. And then because he was crying, he choked.
I’ve never been more scared in my life. And I’ve been deployed twice and my husband has been deployed twice. We have both been in imminent danger.
But this? This rattled me. I gave him the heimliech after grabbing him from his chair.
He finally started breathing again.
He was crying; scared. I needed to clean the drool and goldfish and bit of vomit off of him. He was terrified and shaking, sitting on the edge of the kitchen sink holding onto me for his life…
Life was overwhelming me.
I called my husband, bawling and asking him when he was coming home. He was on his way.
After such a big scare, all of the tension has just dissolved. I felt nothing but absolute, unconditional, undeniable, and unforgettable LOVE. We sat down in the playroom together and popped in Nemo. I needed to feel his love and be his comfort and safety; so we sat (or rather, laid) on the couch, snuggled up and comfortable once again with each other.
Daddy arrived back home and I let my tears go; my overwhelming emotion busted the flood gates. After a good cry, I felt better.
I thought things would resolve. They didn’t.
Daddy dragged a but if dirt in the house from his boots, and knowing his family was in their way, ran the mop over it real quick (it was still wet, drying outside).
Innocent Phoenix tip-toed into the kitchen and I immediately go to pick him up for fear of him slipping on the wet floor.
I’m nano-seconds too late. He smacks his head hard in a full-force fall backwards. Tears. More tears. From us both. Five minutes later, we’re done crying.
Somewhere else in there, he bumps his head on the kitchen table, he runs into the wall, he begins head butting things (including me), he won’t eat… The dog puked in the laundry room, the toilet handle broke, dinner was running late and probably no one was going to eat it, I had a shooting assignment due for school…
That one hour nap is killing me.
Daddy finally fights him for a nap and he sleeps for 45 minutes. From 5:45 to 6:30, the house is resting.
Daddy woke him up so he wouldn’t be up at 3:00am. Acceptable. He finally feels like eating. We watch Nemo, and at 8:30 I finally get him into bed.
The in-laws arrive and he’s woken up. They play. At 10:00 he’s crying, heartbroken that they’re leaving. Just after ten, he’s sleeping hard.
No one but Chad ate the lasagna dinner I spent three hours making. My husband is so sweet for eating it.
I welcome the night and hope that this day is one I never relive.
Yesterday. Was. Difficult.
Today, we welcomed the new day with open arms. We slept in till 8:20! We had sliced strawberries and Life cereal for breakfast. We swam in the pool (and didn’t drown). We had an hour nap (and didn’t act like it was only an hour nap). We celebrated my birthday early (my in-laws surprised me with cake) and then we went to bed at 8:00.
What a nice recovery from yesterday.
Hopefully Phoenix won’t be too upset when they have to return home on Sunday; he was again so sad to see them have to leave at night.
I hope your days have been better than mine lately.