Why do things like this happen when only one parent is home?

Last night Andy had a dinner meeting with some guy (no offense!). While he's gone the proverbial shit hit the fan at home.

The kids are having a great evening. Dinner's done. All three of them are tearing around the house playing catch-me-if-you-can or some such nonsense. Time to give Max his supplements and night time meds. So I call him over to the table, we're chattin', putting all the syringes of meds into his mickey-button. We finish up and not 30 seconds later he gets a look on his face and says, "I'm gonna throw-up!" No throw-up bin within reach. Barf! All over the chair, down the leg and onto the rug! Touchdown! Yes, there is some on Max which is really grossing him out. Poor kid is hysterical. "Get me something to drink!"

About this time, Hannah & Nic come running into the kitchen - and right back out again. Hannah takes Nic upstairs for me. (Thank you, girl!) Max is calming down, we've got the paper towels out wiping him up, when I hear Hannah holler, "MOM! NICKY HAS DIARRHEA!" Oh, okay. Uh. My hands are full. "Hannah, read him a book, I'll be there as soon as I can," I call back. CRAP!

A few minutes later Max is feeling better, cleaned up, throw-up pants off (throw-up is still all over the chair and floor - I mean, I've got diarrhea to deal with!). We head upstairs and are welcomed by an incredible stench wafting through the hallway. Terror starts to strike me in the chest as I walk quickly toward Nicky's room. I can hear Hannah reading a book to him very calmly. I enter the room. I see Hannah in the rocker with a book and Nicky on his back on the changing table, frozen in terror himself, diaper opened up and poop exposed to the world - but still primarily in the diaper! Woo-hoo! (Funny how that could be a happy ending.)

Hannah was so please with her helpfulness, I couldn't help but smile at her. This, of course, is the first time she's ever touched one of his diapers - AND she had to take his jammie pants off, too.

Parenthood... good times.

hrumph...

What is wrong with me? I've been in such a funk this month - possibly longer than that. I feel like I'm chasing a car that I just can't keep up with - it's just out of reach, but the faster I run the further ahead the car moves. And why is this happening? Max is getting better and he goes to clinic way less often. Shouldn't I be feeling great? Getting more done and having more time since we're not at the hospital all the time? Well, nothing's getting done. The piles just get bigger and bigger and more appear. The faster I move the faster they grow. The weight of it all is pushing down on my chest somedays and I just want to curl up in a ball in a corner and sleep for 12 hours. I'm forgetting things; forgetting to do things - that are actually written in my agenda! I'll look at that book several times everyday and still forget to do something. The kids are sleeping well at night, so I should be too. But I'm wondering if I am - I wake up every morning tired and I'm tired all day. I could sleep hours more - if I knew there wasn't a list of things to do that was growing by the minute waiting for me. Good thing I'm wating my precious time writing in my blog...

Craptacular Morning

Andy's off in Vermont and NYC for a few days. Monday morning was complete mayhem here. I sent Andy an email detailing the happenings so he wouldn't feel so far from home. (I can read this now with a smile on my face.) Here's the email:

Oh my gosh... worst morning ever with Max taking his pills. We had a great talk last night (Hannah, Max & I) about cooperating and getting things done that have to get done before school, including taking Max's pills - which were an issue Sunday AM, too.

Everything's great this morning. Kids all slept in until 6:30. Got dressed, made their beds, brushed their teeth (without me asking, by the way). Hannah gets her own breakfast. They're all getting along! Wow! This is awesome.

Then I hand Max his pills (it's only 7:30) and he immediately starts up [tantrum]. We had the biggest power struggle... it was just ridiculous. He got so worked up that I put the other two in the car (8:10 now) to wait. Then I come back in the house to see that he is throwing up all over the carpet under the table and continues throwing up in his bin until I'm sure he tossed all the food from his AM feeding (so much for those 350 calories). S#%T!!!! I have never felt so frustrated in all my life. I just wanted to scream scream scream!! So I said a few profanities under my breath over by the sink while emptying his barf bin, took several deep breathes, got him straightened up and in the car (he's perfectly fine by this time) and drove the kids to school (8:25) where Max proceeded to
take all his pills outside his classroom door in less than a minute. What the hell?