Pushed to the brink

I'm going to warn you now...this post is full of whining and complaining. Please feel free to stop reading. I will not be offended, and I might even be relieved!

I will further preface this post by stating that many things that I'm going to write happen to working moms everyday. However, this is all new to me so please allow me to indulge in a little, well, self-pity.

On Saturday, I noticed that HT was really sniffling. Yesterday, he awoke with a really bad cough. I mean, one of those, coughing-up-a-lung-body-wracking kind of coughs. We pretty much knew by the middle of the afternoon that he wasn't going to be going to school today. I was scheduled to sub, and had been for weeks, so my wonderful husband agreed to stay home with the little guy. He even agreed to take the night shift of sleeping downstairs with him since I was the one going to work today. Don't get me wrong, I am very grateful to my wonderful husband for doing this. This morning he informed me that he didn't sleep much last night. I completely understood (having been the one who handled these situations up to now) and thanked him again for being willing to do this. Before I left, I gave my wonderful husband the phone number of the school so he could report HT's absence, reminded JC to turn out the lights in her bedroom, and handled about a million other little things so no one else had to think about them. Between Kindergarten classes, I called to see how the little guy was feeling. I had awakened my husband. I felt badly, I truly did, but him being annoyed with me didn't really help. When I got to the afternoon class, the school informed me, jokingly, that my husband had forgotten to call about HT and they'd had to call him. I'll be honest, this irked me a little bit, but again, I was so grateful for him being willing to take a sick day, that I promised the office staff that I wouldn't get to sore at him. It was tough to fulfill that promise, however, when he mentioned that he had just been too tired to remember to take care of it. Okay, uhm, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do. Or maybe only if you're mom is that in the job description.

My husband and I both agreed that due to my work schedule the rest of the week, and the fact that we weren't sure if HT was going back to school tomorrow (and the lack of medications in the cabinet) that I would go right after work to do my weekly grocery shopping. Normally I would prefer to go later, but since HT wasn't going to be able to play in his soccer game this evening, my wonderful husband really wanted to attend this meeting that had been scheduled because they were serving steak dinner tonight (I'll try not to sound bitter as I have yet to eat). Both boys were home with my wonderful husband, and I took JC because I had seen a winter coat on sale that I thought she might like and wanted her to try on. I got home about 20 minutes before my husband had to leave. Of course, he needed to change clothes for his meeting, so he wasn't really able to help with the eight bags of groceries I had brought home. And no, it hadn't occurred to him to get something ready for the kids to eat either. JC and JR both decide that they want ravioli. I get that heated in the microwave, and pack their school lunches for tomorrow while they are eating. HT decides that he wants an english muffin with honey. I get him that, and suddenly notice that JC is not at the table and had not been excused. It turns out that she had waited too long to use the restroom, and had peed over everything. Since she is nine years old, I was NOT pleased. I understand that accidents happen, but when you are home, all bathrooms are available, and you are NINE, this particular accident should not have happened. As I'm in her room, I notice that several things I had asked her to put away no fewer than two times already were still not in their place, the lights I had specifically requested she turn off had been left on all day, the bed wasn't made, and I'll be honest, it pretty much unraveled from there. Then I come downstairs and everything I touch in the kitchen, cabinets, handles, EVERYTHING, is sticky. Suddenly, I remembered that HT had asked if he could have something else to eat, and it occurs to me that he'd had honey on his muffin. So, out the come the scrubbing rags. Of course, during all of this JC is upstairs tantruming, and HT is refusing to take the cough medicine that I hope will allow him to sleep through the night.

I decided that the best place for JC, for her own safety, was her bed (as an aside, we allowed her to stay up an extra 1/2 hour to watch the first inning of the Reds game last night, and her teacher hunted me down at school and mentioned that there had been some incidents involving her behavior). When I put HT down (also prior to his normal bedtime) she was sound asleep, which shows me that, yet again, bad things happen when she's overly tired.

If anyone is still reading, please know that I feel totally, totally better after writing all of this down. I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted off my chest, and I will no longer feel the need to explode at my husband when he walks in the door from his steak dinner meeting (hopefully I'll have eaten my bean soup by then). I really am grateful that not only does my husband have a job where it's okay to stay home with the sick kids, but he is willing to take that day as well. I'm grateful that I had the money to purchase the eight bags of groceries that I needed to put away, and more than anything, I'm grateful for my family, even when they push me to the brink of insanity!