Monday, June 27, 2011

I Need a Xanax Flavored Icee

Waking up at the butt crack of dawn is not my idea of "fun".
If it weren't illegal, and terribly wrong, I would "consider" dosing my kids with sleep medication.
But, alas.... I don't do crap like that, so I just make coffee and deal.

The morning began with Lennon waking to the get the worm. Early. Like 5:45 early.
Not cool. Not cool at all. So I grabbed a bottle, warmed it, with my eyes closed and leaning on the counter top. Then I scooped her up and she snuggled on my shoulder. I changed her diaper, and we headed to my bed so she could drink her bottle while I snuggled against her and slept 20 more mins. When she was done, she put her hands on my face to wake me and I tried desperately to encourage her to go back to sleep... "Sleep is good", I tell her. No such luck. So into the den we go... where she made a mess of toys and played while I attempted to lay on the couch and rest ... again. Then, I hear a door open. Enter, Lake Davidson. Hungry, cold, still sleepy. Could this kid get any more miserable? I mean, go back to bed if you are going to bring all that whining in here. I got breakfast for us all and realized, "I don't have a car to take the kids to their ENT appointments." (insert cuss word in my brain) Seriously, this annoys me greatly. Especially when I have not even had coffee and my 5 year old is in a constant state of whine.

Charlie's car wouldn't start this morning, so I called my sister to borrow hers. Thank God for family. Just as we finish breakfast (which took all of my sanity cells to get Lake to eat - eat, when all he did was whine about being hungry), I clean Lennon's face off, go to get coffee and step in a pile of spit up. Now, with a wet regurgitated milky foot, and still no coffee, the door bell rings.... Therapy is here... And so is the Scary Tow Truck Guy. They grab Lennon, I apologize for my appearance, the appearance of the house and the fact that they have to move their car so Scary Tow Truck Guy can tow Charlie's car into the shop. I give Scary Tow Truck Guy the keys. I watch Scary Tow Truck Guy get in the car, start it, back it up and drive it onto the tow truck. Are you effing kidding me?! I don't have time for this.

So I go to the den and watch and learn therapy. Enter, Lake Davidson.... Lake wants to play, watch TV, whining because he is "still hungry".... Sadly, dude just gets the back burner when therapy is going on. I have to explain to him that he cannot be in here because Lennon wants to play with him instead of do therapy, so he goes back to his room, crying. My heart hurts for him. But I don't have time to go and comfort him because Scary Tow Truck Guy is beating, literally beating, on the door. Scary Tow Truck Guy charges me a small fortune and my left toe to haul the "broken" car.

I still need coffee... and now, possibly a Xanax. So, I go into the kitchen, where I can still see Lennon, and her therapists.... I step into, yet another, pile of spit up. (I look up to Heaven and give a God one of those "Seriously?!" looks) I clean the vomit from between my toes (Again), fix my coffee and sit on the floor, watching and learning therapy techniques, only to shift my weight in an attempt to get into a more comfy position on the living room floor and put my knee into spit up. More spit up.

If I was not strong, I would have cried at this moment. But, what can I do? What is crying going to do? I laugh... because this is my life... every day... and I doubt it's going to be any different for a while. I might as well get used to it. God loves me... I know He does. I think He thinks I have the strength to carry on, with a cheerful, yet weary disposition - which is similar to a state of hysteria and delirium. So, I do. I try, at least.

I do the best I can.

Po-Po's (la policia) beware... if you see me walking down the interstate naked, and babbling my lips and mumbling something about "spit up and constant whining"...
Just let me be.... I'll come around... eventually.

2 comments:

Sarah, Three Boys said...

Sister, preach it. I think you just described the last 4 years of my life. Let me tell you about my little friend. It is called GABA you buy it at health food stores, whole foods, whatever. It is my xanax.

Andrea "The H family" said...

LOL! Loving the spit up in between your toes. I swear...no one should say they are a mother until they pass this "RUSH" course. If you were local...I'm very sure that we would have to be accountability partners and keep us accountable and out of the liquor store every evening. I'm convinced. #babiesRhard!!! Love you!