C is not adjusting well to this new hell schedule we have. Who the eff decided that the day should start before the sun is even up? It is so early the sun doesn’t even want to get up! If it is too early for the sun it is not an appropriate time to be awake, operating a motor vehicle, or really even trying to work the Keurig machine. C hates it and I do, too. We like to sleep. We don’t wake up until 9-9:30 on weekends. We both enjoy a good nap. We both detest waking up at any hour before 8. As a lovely side effect of not enough sleep he has been either really great or really awful. He’s very Jekyll and Hyde. One minute he is great, the very next he is a psycho. I love him so I can call him that and I can, also, say it because it is true. Yesterday we had to go to the grocery store. Just he and I. He helped me push the cart. He put the items in the cart we needed. I felt like this could have been a great trip. The problem was that he was all over the place emotionally. I was feeling a little sea sick from all the ups and downs. It felt like one aisle he’d be great and the next aisle his head would twist around and he’d spew out pea soup because I wouldn’t let him get some crayons. Dude, we have crayons. Lots of them. Plus, they weren’t on sale. $1.50 (!!!) for 24 crayons is nuts when I stocked up on them when they were only 50 cents. He’d get over that and he’d be fine for another aisle. Then he was back to being so crazy I swear Target was piping in the shower scene music from Psycho. It was exhausting. As a quick side note his melt downs were very quiet and I felt like he should be rewarded for having the quietest tantrum ever. I appreciate the ability to let your dislike be known in a public setting without announcing it to people four stores away. After that trip (and a nap for him but not for me, boo) we had to pick up K from school and go back to Target for some prescriptions I needed to get. He did ok during our second Target trip. We decided to have a little treat of eating out because it has been a very long time since we ate out somewhere. By that point (6pm) I was exhausted and trying to prop my eye lids up with toothpicks. Being tired mixed with dealing with a child who was pissed he wasn’t sitting next to the person he wanted to sit by was pushing me towards the end of sanity. I guess I wasn’t hiding my quickly nearing breaking point very well but then again I wasn’t trying. When the waitress came to take our drink orders she looked at me and said, “Would you like a beer….wine….:::lowers voice::: shot of tequila?”. You know shit is wearing you down when your waitress offers you a shot in lieu of soda or water. Heck, she didn’t even suggest soda or water, she went straight for the hard stuff. That is why I liked her. Get right to the point. I had to decline though. Not because I didn’t think it would help (heck yeah it would!) but because I had 3 kids with me. You know….responsible….good role model….no drunk driving….all that stuff. Plus, my ulcer hates tequila even though I love it. It is like the world is against me.
P.S. I decided to take C to the bathroom while he was asleep because he drank too much. I took him out of bed and brought him to the bathroom. He wouldn’t wake up enough to stand so I had to kind of hold him upright with one arm and use my other arm to pull his pj bottoms and underwear down. It was like trying to deal with a drunk person. He was all jello arms and legs. No help at all. I sat him on the toilet because, well….I didn’t know what else to do. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do with a sleeping child you want to pee. I was squatted down in front of him, holding him up and talking to him telling him to go pee so he wouldn’t pee the bed. The very next thing I know is the entire front of my nightgown was covered in pee. I forgot the very basic rule of boys, always point ‘it’ down. Just when I thought my days of being peed on were over.