Men are Weenies... but we love them anyway (Most Days)

Newsflash!!!!   MEN ARE WEENIES. 

This past Sunday morning, I was awakened by my darline son at 5 am.  He was coughing and crying obviously in desperate need of his mommie.  He usually doesn't wake until at least 6 am but given the fact that we've been fighting a cold for a couple of week, I wasn't exactly shocked. 

I went into Baby E's room and scooped him up.  We ate a bottle while we sat on the couch in the dark and within seconds of finishing he was back to sleep.  To help him get some much-needed extra rest, I let him sleep on my chest while I cat-napped propped on 2 pillows at one end of the couch.  That let Baby E get another 2 hours of sleep without bone rattling coughing spells and got me some much-needed extra rest too. 

I needed the extra rest because I had already been up most of the night.  Apparently, Baby E was kind and shared his cold with me, so I was up and down a million times blowing my nose, sneezing, and generally not breathing well.  So now between being pregnant and sick, I awoke to a sickly child.  When Baby E woke again around 7:30 or so, he was on go.  At least he didn't realize that he felt bad.  But that meant that this already sick and very tired mom had to chase a 10 month old all over the house. 

I was doing my best to be kind to my hubby, B.  He had spent the entire previous week on a hunting trip in Ohio and was still trying to recover from a couple of sleepless nights.  However, I'll freely admit that I was counting the minutes until he woke up and I got some help... that time never came. 

When B did finally roll out of bed for all of 5 minutes, he said that he was very sick.  He sat on the couch with his head between his knees and then promptly went back to bed.  Lovely!

After B got back into bed, he called to me and asked if I would please bring him some crystal light lemonade.  I'm sure the look on my face was incredulous.  I'm sick, I've been up all night, I'm taking care of a sick baby, and you want me to wait on you???  I know I'm dreaming.  Wake Up, Wake UP, WAKE UP!

Alas, it wasn't a dream.  B was indeed very ill (fever, nausea, the works), Baby E was sickly, and I was feeling like doing anything more than spending the day on the couch would be the equivalent of climing Mt. Everest.  But guess what??? When you're the Mommie, you don't get sick days.

(Semi-random thought:  Apparently Daddys do get sick days.  Do they have a better union than we do?  And how is it exactly that I find the person with whom I can renegotiate my mom contract?)

So after fetching B his drink, I started trying to figure out how I would survive the day.   For starters, I would need to run to a store at some point and buy some Pedia-lite for Baby E and some pregnancy-safe meds for me (not that those would actually work, but at least maybe I'll get a placebo effect).   So I headed to the bathroom to try to get ready for the day.  While I was washing my face, Baby E seemed to be playing happily in the floor.  He was perfectly happy right up until he knocked a candle into the bath tub and glass shattered all over the tub floor.  After calming Baby E down, I finished washing my face and brushing my teeth then proceeded to try to clean up the glass from the tub (at least it was all in one place).   At some point B came in to see what the commotion was but then went right back to bed. 

So now I'm cleaning glass out of the tub with one hand, and trying to keep the 10 month old out of the trash can full of glass with the other hand.  Eventually, Baby E turned to play with something else so I was able to begin to make some real headway with the glass cleanup.  Well, Baby E had found my giant Warehouse Club bottle of Zyrtec (with a childproof cap).  I thought with the cap on tightly it would be safe enough to let him rattle it and teeth on the lid.  WRONG AGAIN!  Just as I'm about to finish the glass cleanup I heard the unmistakable sound of a thousand tiny pills scattering on the tile floor.  Then I turned to see the 10 month old sitting in the middle of all those pills.  Could this day get any better? 

As my exhausted body met with complete and total frustraition the tears began to fall.  I moved the 10 month old out of the pile of pills and became a human road block between him and the pills as he squirmed and screamed while trying to get around me.  Eventually Baby E gave up and sat and cried.  So this tired mom cried too.  I sobbed like a little girl while I tried to gather all those pills from the floor and recollect them into the bottle.   Then it was time to calm both myself and my child down. 

Once I got us both a little settled, I called my mom on the phone and begged for help.  I needed a babysitter just long enough that I could run to the store and grab a couple things to get this sick family through the day.  But by the time that my mom could get to the house, B's symptoms combined with a cronic condition to make us suspect that his gallbladder might be ready to rupture.  So off to the emergency room we went.  I left our sick child at home with my mom, I got myself dressed, and then I drove B to the hospital to sit and wait for 6 hours while they ran tests and bloodwork and X-rays.  All to find out that B has a virus. 

As I sat in those hard plastic chairs pregnant, sick myself, and watching my husband sleep on what I know for a fact to be one of the most uncomfortable cots around, I was a little jealous.  Here he was... sick, getting all kinds of care and waiting on, and sleeping in spite of everything.  Meanwhile my sick, exhausted, pregnant butt was going numb on a hard chair as I fought off periodic dizzy spells.  And earlier I thought my day couldn't get worse. 

Eventually, we did make it home.  I did manage to grab myself and my child some medicine at a pharmacy and my wonderful mother-in-law came and stayed the night with us to give me a hand yesterday.  Did I mention that it also took 1.5 hours to get Baby E down for the night?  Yep, normally we have no problems... Sunday night it was terrible.  Just one of those days, I guess.

Yesterday (Monday) all 3 of us stayed home from work/daycare.  I took Baby E to the doctor to get him an anti-biotic, and B went to his doctor (driven by his mom) to see if he needed some other kind of medication and whether or not he should be around me and Baby E.  He checked out okay with his doctor and eventually we all made it to bed last night.  Let me tell you it wasn't a moment too soon.  By bedtime, B said he was feeling better, Baby E was fairly tired and went down with no fuss, and I was still just as sick as the day before and still hadn't gotten any extra sleep in 2 days. 

Last night wasn't a good night for Baby E.  I guess the male gene kicked in because he woke up a 10:30 pm crying.  He again needed to be held and loved.  After an hour, I laid him back down but he woke right back up and proceeded to play in his crib for another hour.  I sat on the sofa in the living room watching the monitor until he went back to sleep.  Needless to say when the alram went off at 5 am this morning, I again didn't want to get up.  But I did.  I got up and drug myself around getting ready, packing lunches, and getting Baby E up and dressed. 

Just before we were ready to leave the house B annouced he was feeling bad and staying home again.  I had hoped that he would drive us to work and I could sleep for 30 minutes in the car.  No dice again.  He called at 10 this morning to tell me he'd just gotten out of bed (lucky dog).  I wanted to stay home too, but since I'm having a baby in May, I have to save every minute that I can.  Plus, if I had stayed at home I would have felt like I needed to keep Baby E at home too.  I haven't heard from the daycare so I assume Baby E is having a good day.  If not, I don't want to know about it yet.  I have 2 more hours before I get off work and have to go pick up more meds and formula.  Then I'm going home.  I hope that B is in the mood for leftovers because I'm dang sure not cooking. 

To be perfectly honest, I was a little angry at B this morning for staying at home.  Maybe not angry, maybe just jealous.  I think the last few days have taken every last ounce of sympathy out of me.  I no longer have the ability to feel bad for B.  I do wish he would feel better, but almost as much for me to have some help again as for him to not be sick.  It's not that I don't love my husband... I do very much.  But I no longer have the energy in me to take care of 3 sick people.  I'm tired, I'm frustraited, and I really just wish than men had to "man up" the way we women have to when we're sick. 

Maybe I'll feel better once I can breathe again (if that ever happens).  How do you cope when your man is sickly? 

Finding Balance

If anyone is still out there at all I promise I'm not dead.  I'm just a mom.  I thought this would be a great place for me to have to vent and discuss things we're currently going through in our home and all kinds of things, but right now it's just another thing that isn't getting done. 

Today I find myself struggling to find balance.  You see, I'm not a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM).  I'm a full-time-and-then-some working professional mom.  I love my job and I really don't think I'm cut out for the SAHM lifestyle (though there are times when it sounds lovely).  However, I'm sure that this is definatley one of those grass being greener on the other side scenarios. 

In any event, this week I'm a little hormonal (read PMS-ing) and I've fallen into the trap of becoming a Mommy Martyr.  I believe we all fall into that mode from time to time, but I know that I personally have a high propensity for getting there.  I've always been one of those Type A personalities who wants to be everything for everyone and be perfect at it.  But none of us are perfect and no mom to a 7 month old baby has time to do everything on the to-do list. 

Let me walk you through my normal day. 

• 5:00 am: Leap from bed and throw the alarm clock through the wall (I hate that stupid thing).  Let the dogs out to pee, take meds, and begin getting dressed for the day.
• 5:20 am: Check the clock and notice that 20 minutes have passed and you still haven't fixed your hair.
• 5:30 am: Finish fixing hair and makeup, throw on any work-appropriate clothing you can find in the closet.  Wake up husband (the 1st time). Go to the kitchen to fix lunches.
• 5:40 am: Lunches ready to go.  Wake up husband again (2nd time).  Do some other necessary housework.  (fold laundry, empty dishwasher, start supper for that night, pick up toys, etc.)
• 5:45 am:  Make sure/Wake up husband again (3rd and final time ususally).  Let dogs out again. More housework.
• 6:00 am:  Make sure husband is finally in the shower.  Finish up any last little chore I can before getting baby up.
• 6:10 am:  Get baby up, changed, dressed, and ready for daycare. 
• 6:20 am: Remind husband that it's almost time to go.  Play with baby and take baby to play with hubby for a minute while hubby finishes dressing.  Let dogs out to pee one last time.
• 6:30 am:  Running late... just now leaving house when we should have left 5 minutes ago. 
• 6:35 am:  Drop baby at daycare, stop and get gas (if needed), drive to work.
• 7:20 am:  Arrive at work (45 minutes from home).  Realize that I still haven't eaten breakfast.  Go to breakroom and warm up some of the oatmeal I keep stashed in my desk. 
• 7:30 am:  Finally at the desk and eating breakfast.  Check e-mail, calendar, and get settled in for work.  Workday may be super busy or not (varys day to day).  Inevitable that there will be some stupid person to deal with.
• 12:00 pm:  Finally time for lunch.  Grab my brown-bagged lunch and eat while working.
• 4:00 pm:  May be finished working or may work up to another hour.
• 4:30 pm:  Typical time to head home.  Drive for 45 minutes.
• 5:15 pm:  Pick up baby from daycare and head home.
• 5:30 pm:  Get into house, let dogs out to pee, change out of work clothes,  fix supper while trying to play with baby who has now missed his late afternoon nap.  Recruit hubby to play with baby for a few.
• 6:00 pm:  Supper is ready.  Hubby eats while I attempt to eat and feed baby at the same time. 
• 6:30 pm:  Clean up supper while baby plays in high chair. 
• 6:40 pm:  Baby is screaming and tired of the high chair.  Leave dishes for tomorrow morning, wipe baby's face, and get started on bathtime. 
• 7:00 pm:  Baby's bath is finished, Now it's time for a diaper, PJs, and playing in the floor with baby.  Sometimes I can fold some clothes or something during this time too.  It all depends on how happy baby is.
• 8:00 pm:  Almost bedtime for baby.  Settle in on the couch with a bottle and a book to read to him.  Rock baby to sleep.
• 8:45 pm:  Baby has finally settled down and gone to sleep.  Take him to bed. Then pick up any toys so that dogs don't eat them, put remaining bottle in fridge, let dogs out to pee.
• 9:00 pm:  Hubby goes to bed and I hop in the shower.  (It's more efficient to shower at night than to have to spend time drying my hair in the morning). 
• 9:20 pm:  Shower is done.  Turn off lights and fall into bed.  On a good night I only wake up and check the baby monitor 3-4 times.  By 4:00 am I'll be waking up every 20 minutes checking the clock. 

So you can see that there is almost no time remaining in my schedule.  I could try and do with less sleep, but if I don't get at least 7 hours a night I'll be sick at the end of a month (and there really isn't time for sick).  But all-in-all, I just don't have the time to get everything done.  It's not even close.  I'm learning to let the housework go as much as possible.  But sometimes, having a dirty house just makes me crazy and I can't let it go.  Then everything starts to build up until I explode. 

So that is where I am now... all built up and ready to explode.  Last night the baby blessed me and fell asleep on the couch at 7:15.  I put him to bed just after 8.  Wow... I got a whole hour back.  I jumped into action and went to clean the kitchen.  Then hubby comes into the kitchen and starts messing with me.  At first I couldn't tell if he was just aggrivating me or trying to turn me on.  I probably snapped at him and told him to go away too quickly but I was already feeling stressed. 

You see, typically, while I bathe, feed, and play with baby he sits at the computer or watches TV.  Now that is bad enough.  I already feel like I'm doing everything and don't have a minute to breathe yet he has time to surf the web aimlessly.  But at least he's present in the room and if I need something I can ususally get him to bring me a bottle or a diaper or something.  But last night while I did all my running around, he stayed on the phone in another room.  So I was really on my own with no help whatsoever. 

But back-to-the sexing me up part of the story.  After I put the baby in bed I ran to try to get some things finished up in the kitchen.  Then he comes in apparently trying to sex-me-up.  Part of me probably knew what he was really after (and it was just sex-type things for him).  To further complicate our situation, I can't take any form or birth control due to the hormones in them.  So it's either a condom (which he practially refuses) or careful timing (which means we can only do it like 1 week a month).  That means we have like no sex life at all (at least I don't).  Hubby still feels that he should get "special treatment" to satisfy his "problems" from time to time.  That is no fun for me and really just feels like sucking another 20-30 very unpleasant minutes out of my day.  So to say I'm not thrilled when he requests that is an understatement. 

So last night after I snapped at him a little too quickly, I got the cold shoulder and spent what could have been an hour getting more things done or catching up on sleep appologizing and promising "special treatment" tonight.  Now today, I'm more stressed out than yesterday and dreading going home.  I feel resentful toward my husband for adding one more item to my to-do list.  I have fallen deep into the Mommy Martyr pit of despair.  The fact that we can't actually have sex very often leaves me feeling less like a loved wife and more like a cheap prostitute, mostly because by the time we can enjoy the real thing Hubby is so revved up that he doesn't take the time to make love.  It's more a wham-bam-thank-you-maam. 

So how do I plan on pulling myself out of this abyss?  Well I'm not quite sure yet.  Part 1 of my plan involves me making some attitude adjustments.  I can't let myself stay in this pit and I'm the only one who can do something about it.  I hear that working out can relieve some of the stress so I'm going to go try to spend 30 minutes on the treadmill this afternoon during my lunch break.  Part 2 should probably be a nice long talk with Hubby about how I'm feeling.  I have lots of trouble doing this and he has even more trouble actually talking about his feelings.  But what I want is to get everything on the table so that we can begin to address the issue.  I haven't quite figured out what Part 3 needs to be, but maybe Hubby and I can figure that part out together. 

In the meantime... I'd be curious to know what your thoughts are?