~
And here’s where it all goes horribly wrong. I got into bed and I couldn’t fall asleep. I think it’s probably because I was so pumped up. But I started getting frustrated. And my house was HOT. And I still have comforters on my bed. So I shoved all the blankets to the end of my bed.
I rolled this way and that way, couldn’t get comfy. Bianca woke up, she wanted me to come fix her covers b/c she rolled them into a knot. Went & fixed her up, got back into bed. Now I’m awake. And hot. Still. I turned upside down in my bed so my head was where my feet should be just so I could be directly under the ceiling fan. Bianca calls again, she wants water and can’t open the bottle. She brings it to me & I open it, send her back to bed but not until I've sufficiently explained myself to her for why I'm sleeping in the wrong direction. She wants help with her covers again. I fix her covers. Back to bed, still can’t sleep. Getting dozy…Bianca calls out she wants to come in my bed. I tell her no, I’m too hot & tossy-turny. She cries. I refuse to give in but I can’t sleep b/c she’s crying. Finally all things settle down and I fall to sleep in the 2-3am range.
~
Enter 5am, a beeping alarm clock and the words “Oh hell no”.
I pound the alarm for an hour and finally get up, all of last nights excitement and energy G-O-N-E! Get myself ready and then.....let the fight with Bianca begin. "Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up, time to get up", ad nauseum. Of course, she’s beat from lack of sleep and she’s ornery. Everything I say makes her cry. Get out of bed. Cry. Finally, literal little bugger that she is, gets "out of bed" and lays down on her floor. "Get up." Cry. She stands still and cries. I ask her if she can at least sit on the potty while she cries. She cries more. I pick her up to move her, she cries more. 
I muster all the fake silliness I can to at least get her to stop crying and now she wants to play. We’re late, I’m flipping out on the inside but trying to maintain a sense of humor for her. She won’t cooperate and I put away the silly voice to put on the Mom voice and she cries. She wants to bring 30 things to school with her. I say no. She hides in the corner and sobs. You get the point. An hour to get her ready and I’m now 45 minutes behind schedule. On the way to work, there is a detour. And I get stuck behind a school bus in a residential neighborhood on the detour. Can anyone tell me WHY busses stop at every blessed driveway? What happened to the days the kids all walked to one corner? By the time I get to work, I feel like I’ve been in a war.
~
Day was fine and I get myself all pumped up again to finish the things at home that I’d strategically delayed.
And here’s where it all goes horribly wrong. I got into bed and I couldn’t fall asleep. I think it’s probably because I was so pumped up. But I started getting frustrated. And my house was HOT. And I still have comforters on my bed. So I shoved all the blankets to the end of my bed.
I rolled this way and that way, couldn’t get comfy. Bianca woke up, she wanted me to come fix her covers b/c she rolled them into a knot. Went & fixed her up, got back into bed. Now I’m awake. And hot. Still. I turned upside down in my bed so my head was where my feet should be just so I could be directly under the ceiling fan. Bianca calls again, she wants water and can’t open the bottle. She brings it to me & I open it, send her back to bed but not until I've sufficiently explained myself to her for why I'm sleeping in the wrong direction. She wants help with her covers again. I fix her covers. Back to bed, still can’t sleep. Getting dozy…Bianca calls out she wants to come in my bed. I tell her no, I’m too hot & tossy-turny. She cries. I refuse to give in but I can’t sleep b/c she’s crying. Finally all things settle down and I fall to sleep in the 2-3am range.~
Enter 5am, a beeping alarm clock and the words “Oh hell no”.
I pound the alarm for an hour and finally get up, all of last nights excitement and energy G-O-N-E! Get myself ready and then.....let the fight with Bianca begin. "Time to get up, time to get up, time to get up, time to get up", ad nauseum. Of course, she’s beat from lack of sleep and she’s ornery. Everything I say makes her cry. Get out of bed. Cry. Finally, literal little bugger that she is, gets "out of bed" and lays down on her floor. "Get up." Cry. She stands still and cries. I ask her if she can at least sit on the potty while she cries. She cries more. I pick her up to move her, she cries more. 
I muster all the fake silliness I can to at least get her to stop crying and now she wants to play. We’re late, I’m flipping out on the inside but trying to maintain a sense of humor for her. She won’t cooperate and I put away the silly voice to put on the Mom voice and she cries. She wants to bring 30 things to school with her. I say no. She hides in the corner and sobs. You get the point. An hour to get her ready and I’m now 45 minutes behind schedule. On the way to work, there is a detour. And I get stuck behind a school bus in a residential neighborhood on the detour. Can anyone tell me WHY busses stop at every blessed driveway? What happened to the days the kids all walked to one corner? By the time I get to work, I feel like I’ve been in a war.~
Day was fine and I get myself all pumped up again to finish the things at home that I’d strategically delayed.
Plan: Leave work on time, pick up the girl, straight home, fold laundry while she’s in the shower, cook meal for the week while she’s eating dinner & watching Wubbzy. (yeah, yeah….it works for a single Mom) Get her to bed, clean up kitchen & go to bed early to make up for last night.
How it actually went down: Worked 40 minutes late finishing a last minute project that got dumped on me. Picked up Bianca just as the center was closing. She takes a major header into a dirt pile while skipping to the car and skins her knee in 3 places. I carry her back inside where teachers happily stay to help her get cleaned up and bandaged. My drama queen continues to sob and insists on being carried, can’t get into the car by herself. Says she needs an ice pack. So we stop at CVS where she now has decided she also needs a bottle of water. And a lollipop. 
She is walking like Igor of the Dungeon, hobbling and dragging her injured leg behind her like it's a clubfoot. When I try to speed her up she lets out a pitiful whining cry. We finally make it out of CVS to home where she needs to limp over to the neighbors house, as she can see them eating dinner in the window, and tell them about her injury. I get her inside and she wants dinner first. But not the dinner I planned for her, no. She wants the food I put aside for my lunch the next day. Whatever….just eat it. I go upstairs to fold laundry, she doesn’t want to be alone so she follows me. Except she thinks she can’t walk up the stairs so I have to show her how to do it without bending her knee. Good….time for a shower. Of course, my little patient now can’t do it by herself. She’s much too fragile. Oh the holy horror of it all. Every article of clothing is a project with a piercing whine that’s morphed into a single word of “MahBooBoooooooo!!” Finally get her filthy clothes off & into the shower and the water stings her. I go to take off the band-aid the teachers put on (really wasn’t big enough) and she is running in circles in the tub screaming “MahBooBooMahBooBooMahBooBooooooo!! No! No! No!” I get soaked as I hold her and tell her I’m not going to hurt her. Every time I get a fraction of inch away from the bandaid, she pulls her knee away and says “Gentle, Mama!! GENTLE, Be GENTLE!!!!!” I haven’t even touched her yet! I get it off finally and pour peroxide on the scrapes b/c they were very dirty. You would think I amputated her knee cap the way she looked at me and did the silent, red-faced scream of excruciation! Complete with gasps of breath and then a wail that finally emerged as I rinsed it off and poured on a second dose. “Oooouuuuuuuuuuuuccccchhhhhh, the bubbles sting, they sting, the bubbles they sting and I don’t want any more of the bubbles!!! Mamaaaaaa!” Nope, all done with the “bubbles”. We move on to washing the rest of her off when she discovers there has been a secondary injury!! She also skinned her side kindof over her hip bone. She realizes this after she put soap on it and then grabs the water to rinse it off spraying me and half the bathroom in the process. I get her all rinsed off and all she can do is hobble in the tub whimpering “MahBooBoo *sniffle* MahBooBoo *sniffle* MahBooBoo” Doesn’t want me to dry her off, is crying for a band aid, doesn’t want the towel but shivering because she’s cold. I end up basically throwing a nightie onto her wet body and I try to gently pat her knee so I can get it dry for a bandaid but no. Torture. I send her to get started going downstairs since it takes her 10 minutes now. I douse her clothes in Zout & OxyClean to start working on the dirt and put them in the bathroom sink to soak. Go to the stairs where she’s sitting & crying. It’s 9:00 at this point, an hour past bedtime already. I help her limp downstairs and I comb her hair while she finishes dinner complete with moaning & groaning between each bite. Finally her knee has air dried so I prepare to remedy it. I start with some Bactine spray, the stuff that numbs cuts. I spray her knee and she wails that it stings. I point to the words on the bottle, as if she can read them with me, and say “Do you see this?? Sting-Free!! Numbs on contact!! I’ve used this before and I know it does not sting!!” Realizing she’s been trapped, she retorts indignantly “Well, it is very, very WET on my boo-boo!! AND.....it’s stinky!” Aye-yay-yay, this kid. It dries up and I get out the jumbo bandaid. She’s very pleased that her injury is deserving of the giant bandage. I smear antibiotic ointment on it and she gasps when I put it on her cut. I give her this crazed, wide eyed look which clearly conveyed my thoughts of “do not even tell me this stings!!” and she mutters “Boy, that medicine sure is cold!” Finally, 9:30, and we’re limping back up to bed where she’s losing her will to fight me and only has to tell me twice to be careful putting covers on her and not to touch “MahBooBoo.” I go to my bedroom to close the sliding glass door so I can set the alarm and as I do, my screen door falls completely out of the tracks and out onto the deck. I stare. I shrug. I close the glass door. I am drained as I go into the bathroom to wash my face and realize her clothes are soaking in the sink and I have to deal with those first. I sigh. Miss “I-Have-The-Ears-Of-A-Predatory-Hawk” hears this noise and starts calling out “What? What?” I said “It’s nothing, honey”. “Yes, yes…you made a noise like this. (sigh) I heard you make that noise. What? I want to know everything!” Oy vey, is she me!!! I explain to her satisfaction, kiss her goodnight and run downstairs.
~
I sit shell shocked for a minute as I realize I’ve done nothing I needed to do tonight. I evaluate my situation and realize I simply can’t push off the cooking to another night. Spend an hour cooking then a little longer cleaning up and portioning out food into bowls for her school lunches. Chanting most of the time “Just get it done. Just get through it. Just get it done. Just get through it.” I drag myself upstairs at 11:30, look at the pile of laundry on my bed, thank God that the pants I want to wear tomorrow are laying on top. I put them on a hanger and I throw the rest on my floor without even caring. And finally go to sleep. This morning came much too quickly and I, again, had an overtired girl which resulted in quite a similar morning to yesterday. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I am shot.
How it actually went down: Worked 40 minutes late finishing a last minute project that got dumped on me. Picked up Bianca just as the center was closing. She takes a major header into a dirt pile while skipping to the car and skins her knee in 3 places. I carry her back inside where teachers happily stay to help her get cleaned up and bandaged. My drama queen continues to sob and insists on being carried, can’t get into the car by herself. Says she needs an ice pack. So we stop at CVS where she now has decided she also needs a bottle of water. And a lollipop. 
She is walking like Igor of the Dungeon, hobbling and dragging her injured leg behind her like it's a clubfoot. When I try to speed her up she lets out a pitiful whining cry. We finally make it out of CVS to home where she needs to limp over to the neighbors house, as she can see them eating dinner in the window, and tell them about her injury. I get her inside and she wants dinner first. But not the dinner I planned for her, no. She wants the food I put aside for my lunch the next day. Whatever….just eat it. I go upstairs to fold laundry, she doesn’t want to be alone so she follows me. Except she thinks she can’t walk up the stairs so I have to show her how to do it without bending her knee. Good….time for a shower. Of course, my little patient now can’t do it by herself. She’s much too fragile. Oh the holy horror of it all. Every article of clothing is a project with a piercing whine that’s morphed into a single word of “MahBooBoooooooo!!” Finally get her filthy clothes off & into the shower and the water stings her. I go to take off the band-aid the teachers put on (really wasn’t big enough) and she is running in circles in the tub screaming “MahBooBooMahBooBooMahBooBooooooo!! No! No! No!” I get soaked as I hold her and tell her I’m not going to hurt her. Every time I get a fraction of inch away from the bandaid, she pulls her knee away and says “Gentle, Mama!! GENTLE, Be GENTLE!!!!!” I haven’t even touched her yet! I get it off finally and pour peroxide on the scrapes b/c they were very dirty. You would think I amputated her knee cap the way she looked at me and did the silent, red-faced scream of excruciation! Complete with gasps of breath and then a wail that finally emerged as I rinsed it off and poured on a second dose. “Oooouuuuuuuuuuuuccccchhhhhh, the bubbles sting, they sting, the bubbles they sting and I don’t want any more of the bubbles!!! Mamaaaaaa!” Nope, all done with the “bubbles”. We move on to washing the rest of her off when she discovers there has been a secondary injury!! She also skinned her side kindof over her hip bone. She realizes this after she put soap on it and then grabs the water to rinse it off spraying me and half the bathroom in the process. I get her all rinsed off and all she can do is hobble in the tub whimpering “MahBooBoo *sniffle* MahBooBoo *sniffle* MahBooBoo” Doesn’t want me to dry her off, is crying for a band aid, doesn’t want the towel but shivering because she’s cold. I end up basically throwing a nightie onto her wet body and I try to gently pat her knee so I can get it dry for a bandaid but no. Torture. I send her to get started going downstairs since it takes her 10 minutes now. I douse her clothes in Zout & OxyClean to start working on the dirt and put them in the bathroom sink to soak. Go to the stairs where she’s sitting & crying. It’s 9:00 at this point, an hour past bedtime already. I help her limp downstairs and I comb her hair while she finishes dinner complete with moaning & groaning between each bite. Finally her knee has air dried so I prepare to remedy it. I start with some Bactine spray, the stuff that numbs cuts. I spray her knee and she wails that it stings. I point to the words on the bottle, as if she can read them with me, and say “Do you see this?? Sting-Free!! Numbs on contact!! I’ve used this before and I know it does not sting!!” Realizing she’s been trapped, she retorts indignantly “Well, it is very, very WET on my boo-boo!! AND.....it’s stinky!” Aye-yay-yay, this kid. It dries up and I get out the jumbo bandaid. She’s very pleased that her injury is deserving of the giant bandage. I smear antibiotic ointment on it and she gasps when I put it on her cut. I give her this crazed, wide eyed look which clearly conveyed my thoughts of “do not even tell me this stings!!” and she mutters “Boy, that medicine sure is cold!” Finally, 9:30, and we’re limping back up to bed where she’s losing her will to fight me and only has to tell me twice to be careful putting covers on her and not to touch “MahBooBoo.” I go to my bedroom to close the sliding glass door so I can set the alarm and as I do, my screen door falls completely out of the tracks and out onto the deck. I stare. I shrug. I close the glass door. I am drained as I go into the bathroom to wash my face and realize her clothes are soaking in the sink and I have to deal with those first. I sigh. Miss “I-Have-The-Ears-Of-A-Predatory-Hawk” hears this noise and starts calling out “What? What?” I said “It’s nothing, honey”. “Yes, yes…you made a noise like this. (sigh) ~
I sit shell shocked for a minute as I realize I’ve done nothing I needed to do tonight. I evaluate my situation and realize I simply can’t push off the cooking to another night. Spend an hour cooking then a little longer cleaning up and portioning out food into bowls for her school lunches. Chanting most of the time “Just get it done. Just get through it. Just get it done. Just get through it.” I drag myself upstairs at 11:30, look at the pile of laundry on my bed, thank God that the pants I want to wear tomorrow are laying on top. I put them on a hanger and I throw the rest on my floor without even caring. And finally go to sleep. This morning came much too quickly and I, again, had an overtired girl which resulted in quite a similar morning to yesterday. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. I am shot.
2 comments:
I'm sorry but I'm laughing. Because I've been there.
Riddle me this - I want to know how a scrape kills my munchkin, yet she can run around on her broke in 2 places foot all day long?
The busses thing annoys me too. Happens here. And....there are sidewalks between the stops. Why can't kids walk down the freakin' sidewalk?
"can you at least sit on the potty while you cry" - oh gosh I'm on the floor laughing. Because I know you were serious. It's one of those things that comes out of a mom's mouth so innocently!
I want to know what happens when they get to big for me to forcibly dress?
You poor thing. I can sympathize. That part where you were in the kitchen cooking for the lunches and telling yourself to just get it done? -- Oh, yeah. My favorite chant is, "Just keep the body moving, just keep the body moving, just keep the body moving..."
I hope things settled down very soon. I'm sure you were in desperate need of rest.
Post a Comment