Baby Borrowers II

I saw the episode with the toddlers…and all I can say is that after the day I’d had that day, I would have gladly sent my own along for the experiment.  As it was, I was oddly comforted by all the trouble the kids were having (when I wasn’t feeling really bad for them; one couple, in particular, who had done really well with the baby had their asses kicked by the toddler.  And it wasn’t that they were doing a bad job per se.  The kid was clearly really upset to be out of his own comfort zone and was ten kinds of miserable…and anyone who’s ever listened to marathon toddler screaming knows that it can push you very, very close to the edge.  I thought the mom who picked up the little boy was harder on them than she needed to be).

Anyway, it’s been more of the same around here, along with compounding frustration on most fronts.  I’m just feeling so overwhelmed by everything, and I could really use a little freaking validation – anything!  Acknowledgment that I’ve got a lot on my plate, that it’s hard to try to do it all without the aid of childcare or any appreciable assistance from husband/family.  I don’t blame them – or, at least, I’m trying not to – because, in the case of family help, I squandered what I had when I had it.  I can hardly whine about being overworked now, when I didn’t do the work I should have when I had help.  In the case of the husband, he’s in the middle of a part-time MBA program that I encouraged him to do, promising that I would take care of things on the home front.  I can hardly throw that back at him when the going gets tough.

So, yeah, all I’d really like for Christmas is some freaking validation that this is extraordinarily hard.  Maybe I’m just a whiny old thing (maybe?), but between relay naps between the kids (first baby – for maybe 30 min. – then toddler, after much crying and screaming [I'd say she's ready to give the naps up, but she's clearly tired come nap time], and then baby for a little catnap before we head into the pre-bedtime slog), and baby boy’s predilection for multiple wakings overnight, I’m running on fumes here.  By the time M. gets home – and this is usually 7 at the earliest, and frequently after 10:30 on school nights – I do not care anymore.  About anything.  Particularly my dissertation.  I have energy enough to read some, but no energy to write.  And I don’t know where to get more – at the energy store?  I’d better wait until a day when I’m able to have the car (ie: not a school day for M.) and hope they have a way for me to look around with a walking toddler and an immobile baby in tow.

I just want to find a nice place all my own, invite everyone in my life over, sit them down at a distance, and then take a box of breakable anything and just start hurling it at the wall.  I’d like people to get some sense of how desperate I feel sometimes – oftentimes – because I feel like I’m in this all by myself.  I don’t get five freaking minutes alone during the daytime, but I’m supposed to throw the kids in bed, assume they’re both actually going to stay asleep, and then immediately turn to even more work?

I dunno.  The kids are very safe with me, but I personally feel kind of desperate.  Which would probably be exhausting if I weren’t already exhausted.

Still here!

I’ve been trying to get back into dissertation writing mode and, thus, mostly AWOL here.  Children have been sleeping a little better; well, the toddler has, anyway.  Ever since the baby came into the room with her, where she can keep an eye on him, she’s mostly slept like the dead until about 6:30 am.  For those of you to whom this sounds early: it’s not.  It’s so late I could weep with gratitude.  It’s so much better than, say, 5:30 am that I count my blessings every time she wakes up and there’s not a “5″ glaring at me from the clock.

Baby Boy, not so much.  He’s been teething his brains out, complete with soaked shirt, for what seems like forever.  He’s the only kid I’ve ever had who actually went through a whole bottle of Infant Tylenol and moved on to the next one.  I feel for him – there are few other signs of teething other than the fact that he’s drooling like a madman, tugging his ears, not very hungry for solid food, and crying in pain.  At one point I’d decided that it must be an ear infection, but it’s not.  And he loves having his gums massaged…

But, for all of that, last night he actually slept from 7-ish until about midnight, and then he didn’t wake up until 5, ate, and went back to bed again until about 8.  Again, me, weeping with happiness and gratitude.  The only drawback is that with every bit of extra sleep I get, my body craves more with a vengeance.

This weekend is our local Obon Festival.  Parking is traditionally a nightmare, so I’m planning to have us there stupidly early in hopes of getting parking on the main road, rather than squeezing our car into tight little nooks along the back road where the temple is located.  It’s always been a fun time, but this year I’ve decided to forgo the pleasure of buying our food there (I know the money goes to the temple, but it’s a lot of money for fairly little food) and I’ll be attempting to bring it instead.  Traditional Japanese Father (he’s not, normally, but in matters of picnic food he’s Mr. Nikkei) wants onigiri and chicken teriyaki (breasts!  In this sense, he’s anything but Japanese; any fool knows that the only good teriyaki is made from thighs, but he’s a breast purist.  Bah).  So I’ll need to figure out how to do all of this sometime on Saturday…we’ll see what transpires.  Maybe I’ll take a picture or something.

But, I have outfits for everyone (except me, because I DO NOT do yukata) and so I’m as ready as I need to be.