I was just innocently sitting here doing what I do (parent - the verb) during that ever-awesome post nap but still before Dad comes home fuh-hun time of day. Sebastian isn't drunk but you'd think he was the way he's tried and tried and tried and TRIED to put my flip flops on my feet over and over and over and over and OVER again. Julia has gone back to bed 17 times since she woke up 18 minutes ago (my choice, not the dictator's) and Theo is almost rolling over to not completion like he tends to do when he's not finger gnawing or formula chugging or napping.
(not roller not pictured, obviously)
I was being my abnormally optimistic self and thinking that Simon might get home within the hour when he let me know via stealth text from clinic he still has nine patients to see in clinic. I think every patient gets 30 minutes? I don't really know and I'll maintain my optimistic outlook for 6 more minutes before I turn back into a pissy pumpkin. Anyway, I read the text nine more times just for fun and waited for an emoticon of the joking variety (something Simon has never sent but ... fat ladies flying and singing pigs and all jat zazz). Nomoticon thus far so naturally my response has been that of a mature toddler ...
Mmmm ... a little more of a brow furrow because I have worry lines to maintain but ... you get the general photograph.
Am I complaining? No no no no ... it's more of a sireny whine which is centuries more annoying. Actually, you know what? Allow me to craft a visual ...
There. And official.
Bash is coping by shoving Simon's toothbrush down his pants (really hope it's outer diaper rather than the alternative) and Julia's trying to force his fat hooves into her flower girl shoes while begging to watch a show on "duh compyoodah" (a request you better believe I'm going to indulge) and I am now typing with one hand - thank you sweet Theo in my other hand. Run-on nothing.
(I didn't have any plans and I vacillate between thinking it's better knowing or not knowing that it's going to be a late night with just the kids but today I think it would've been better to know? I'm a planner but not a doer which makes for a super great personality. I maybe would've at least planned to go on a destinationless drive? Again planning and doing .... different animals)
Smiles for all.
That feeling makes me panic. That 'almost being done flying solo' and then nowhere near being done.
ReplyDeleteHer cry face is getting more EPIC...I didn't think this was possible. Also, your graph is awesome.
ReplyDeleteYes! I've put the kids to bed alone every night this week. It is not for the faint of heart. And I'm glad I'm not the only one who re-reads texts for fun.
ReplyDeleteI'm still waiting for my husband to get home too.... kids are in fussy pre-bed mode and dinner is cold on the counter and I just texted the husband warning him I might run away before he gets home.... solidarity sister, solidarity
ReplyDeleteI think it´s better not knowing and just pretending that it´s going to be just you and he´ll be late, make plans and if he comes home, cancel plans. I´m sorry, I´m just pessimistic like that, sorry :( Hang in there......and know that your whining and/or complaining are always welcome in my blogroll :D
ReplyDeletePlanner not doer. Me-to-a-tee. Every once in a while I nail the 3-kids-solo-at-the-bewitching hour. Then I have to nap off my success for a month.
ReplyDeleteI hope he's home now! Have a drink or 5 or something if not...
ReplyDeleteI always would rather know that he's going to be epically late -- gives me more time to stew and count the ways I am grievously wronged on a daily basis. Plus, then I am not panting pathetically every time I hear a car come down our road hoping that "Daddy's home!!!" What really frosts my cookies though is when he calls me to say "I'm on my way!" and then he's waylaid by something juuust as he's sneaking out the back door. I know to add a half hour to his approximate arrival time but it doesn't help when the kids are in werewolf mode. It's always a downward spiral from 4 pm on. As a seasoned mom once told me many years ago - "there's a reason 5 o'clock is the cocktail hour. Drink up."
ReplyDeleteHa! I LOVE that last sentence...!
DeleteOh my gosh, Sebastian is a little Simon!
ReplyDeleteDude, keep the faith. That's all I can say. It sucks to be where you are and no kind words from an internet weirdo will make it better.
ReplyDeleteWe also watch a lot of shows on duh compyoodah - two browser windows + some hijacked illegal episodes of hypnotic Baby Einstein via YouTube = happy zoned-out boob tube toddler and parents able to update their FB status in peace. Golden!
ReplyDeleteI so feel for you. This has been my life lately with my husband's military obligations. Only all my people are bigger. And more self-sufficient. And self-entertaining. And there is no shame in letting Julia feed her Dora addiction at a time like this!
ReplyDeleteah yes...the unknown "hour of return". been there, done that, got the t-shirt. it happened again tonight as a matter of fact. as for the whining...oh I am at about a 97...I should have gotten a degree in bitch, whine, moan and complain"...I would have gotten straight A's. hang in there my friend. your solo "mental recovery" trip to costco will be happening sooner than you think...maybe...I hope...sorta...anyway...hugs from VA!
ReplyDeleteThis is SO my life. I just got a little stressed out reading this, for fear just thinking about defiance would send my children into it themselves. I have seen these moments far too many times.
ReplyDeleteI love this though, you have a great way with words! Will be keeping up with you :)
Becca
http://honesteller.com
Saying a prayer for you...it's hard!! I know this is meant to be a "vent" post, and girl don't you deserve to just vent, but I can't help but say...having physical friends in the same boat who can relate/distract/provide playmates makes a world of difference. I know that's probably hard in the transitory state you guys live in, but if there is some way to connect with other moms (and I do mean in a physical way, not just a blogging way), I highly encourage it!!! Hang in there.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much!!
DeleteThe witching hours between nap and dinner are pretty much the worst thing EVER. I have thrown in the towel on seeing my hubby for the witching hour/dinner/bath/bedtime for about the next month or two. I have found that going outside with the girls makes said witching times much for manageable for me because if there is screaming/drama then the walls of our house do not reverberate and make me go completely insane.
ReplyDeleteCan I just say you are my hero. Oh, I swear I about fell over laughing reading about your daily "I need to start drinking" episodes with the kids that I've already been through. Oh how I wish now I had known about blogging when my kids were young. No worries, I have teenagers now. They are just larger than your children and behave the same way minus the diapers but with an added wicked dose of sarcasm they inherited from their mother. Oh, you made my day...
ReplyDeleteWait, you don't drink from noon to 7pm like I do? Weird. Ok, that's totally not true. If I tried to crack open a beer while they're awake, they'd demand their share, and a drunk toddler is really hard to get dressed.
ReplyDeletei am in awe of how you wrangle three small kids on the daily. and that chart is the best. i'm always whining, sometimes i don't even realize i'm doing it. i'm going to be a joy when we have kids ;) hope you had a drink or five!
ReplyDeleteUm I can do that math... 9 women... 30 minutes each... I'd cry too.
ReplyDeleteIf it helps at all, I usually don't take up that much time at the doctor's office. And I have prided myself on not being the crazy high maintenance pregnant lady. Obviously I'm not Simon's patient, but I figure the over all attitude might slowly waft over to your general area and help.
That didn't even make sense. I shouldn't be allowed to talk to people at this point.
You just summed up my yesterday (so, the same day). It would have been a great day for Joe to surprise me upon (finally) coming home with a bottle or ten of wine, but him doing that would only make him later, so not dropping the hint and going wineless won. This time.
ReplyDeleteOh, and I'm pretty sure that wailing gives whining a run for it's money on the graph.
Is it wrong that I laugh uncontrollably at your posts? I can't be sure whether or not that's cruel, but you make the pandemonium that is motherhood (especially during flying solo moments) too damn funny. Your writing style just might rival Hyperbole and a Half.
ReplyDelete-Danielle
Not that you need this, but keep it in your back pocket: I got my 3.5 YO to stop a major tantrum by saying "Hey, wanna go kill some ants?"....
ReplyDelete-Melissa (who had 3 kids in less than 4 years)
I refer to this time of day as my "wall," or as my sister says, "the 4oclock meltdown." seems like everyone has one, especially mom.
ReplyDelete