Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Today was an asshole.
Leif is dealing with something. And by something, I mean he's not really sick, but he's not 100% either. He has always been a really healthy kid, so when he gets a curve ball, like diarrhea, he gets more emotional than anything. He becomes a little bit of a hypochondriac, and loves remedies. But he also stalls out on EVERYTHING. He puts the kibosh on naps, refuses normal food, whines constantly and basically makes my life a living hell from the moment he wakes up.
Today is one of those days. He threw a breakfast fit. He threw a potty fit. He hated the clothes I picked out. He didn't like that I wanted a shower. He tormented me with 2,347 "why?" all while I tried to clean the house. He stuck to me like a tick. He cried. I cried. We couldn't find his Oatmeal Bear, and I actually got so worked up that I hugged that damn bear half to death when he was finally located.
He has been trying to be a "big boy" and poop on the potty, which has turned into a blessing and a curse. It's awesome that he is telling me he feels poop and wants to sit on the potty....the problem is when you have the runs, you feel like that every 3 1/2 minutes all damn day. And he refuses to poop alone, because he needs someone to talk to, so I spent all morning racing up the stairs (making my pelvic condition scream for mercy) to get a boy to the potty in time...and make sure he was updated on current events. Because he asks me, "What's in the news, mama?" Somebody needs to record these moments. Today I blathered on Ebola, 4 yr olds bringing drugs to school, gay marriage bans, holiday economic forecasts, basketball drafts, the blood moon and the Nobel Prize. It was an odd mix, I can tell ya.
When nap time came, I thought, "Thank Zeus, I will finally be able to eat lunch, take a break, maybe get some painkillers in my gullet, etc." I was so wrong. Apparently, you cannot go to bed when you are sick(ish) because you will need to poop 5 times, complain about the wind, complain about your clothes, complain about the ceiling fan, dispute mama's claims that you must have lost your mind, tell mama that sleep is impossible, need water, a snack, different socks.....the list goes on. This charade went on for an hour and a half, until my (wonderful/amazing/incredible) husband came home on his lunch break to snuggle, read a book to and rock insane sickypoo to sleep while mama sobbed in a corner.
It's good that I have a very loving and intuitive husband. He knew exactly what needed to happen, which included him doing a bit of laundry, giving me a great big hug, telling me to go watch a movie, and bringing home dinner. Leif had a little nap, but it was enough to revive me, kinda. He did try to claw me to death when he woke up because he wanted cereal and I refused, (BRAT diet only for crazy poopers, in my opinion!) so I spoon fed him applesauce while I distracted him with Wild Kratts. Thank God for somewhat informative nature shows for kids. I almost never let him watch TV, but when I pull it out, you know I'm desperate.
So, here we are. Leif's had some toast and has been happily watching things about wild turkeys and spiders while I type this, I've drank copious amounts of chamomile tea, and my husband is coming home with dinner. Has today been truly awful? Yes. Have I survived? Absolutely. Should my kiddo beware pushing my buttons tomorrow? OH GOD YES. But in the end, I feel better. I know that I can make it through a day where I think I accomplished less than nothing, but still have silver linings. Hubby loves me half to death. Leif is trying to potty train on his own terms. I can let some stuff go, and do nothing but watch The Borgias on Netflix. The world will keep turning. Whew.
Posted by Kate Rowan