My life right now is all about scheduling. And I'm sucking at it. Badly.
The only thing I have set in stone every week is the Bean's creative movement class on Tuesdays, but soon enough that will come to an end and we'll be doing the summer thing. I assume the "summer thing" will be much like our "spring" and "fall" and "winter" things ... a whole lot of what the eff are we doing today.
At least we're finally getting bedtime back. Forget prime time television with the Boy — I'm stuck sitting on the stairs outside the girls' bedroom usually from 8 to 9 p.m. At least they're in their own beds and sleeping most of the night again. Though the normal bedtime for them means an earlier wake up call. I suppose I can handle getting up at 6:30 some mornings if it means an hour or two of quiet at night to collect my thoughts. I usually don't get to do that during the day unless it's in three-minute increments interrupted by screaming because someone turned the TV off, took a toy or dumped Bailey's water dish.
Oh yes, toddler and toddler-in-training tantrums are in full swing. Generally it's when I mention going to the gym. Consequently, so we don't have a complete public meltdown, I've avoided the argument for sanity's sake. That means I've avoided the YMCA and the elliptical for three weeks. When will this crap end!?
When I first started taking the kids, it was to get on a schedule. Monday, Wednesday and Friday we went, and then we missed one day and it was like the universe imploded and that was the end of that — no more going and enjoying herself in the play area with all the other kids her age. The Bean's become increasingly clingy since then. No joke, I can't even sneak off to shower without her turning six shades of purple with frustration and anger while I lather, rinse, repeat as fast as humanly possible.
I can effectively shower in less than seven minutes because my kid is flipping a shit on the other side of the shower door.
Parenting is a joy. It will test all your limits, patience only being one of them.
As I write this I can hear my girls in the living room ... I think one of them just dropped a lamp. And I'm pretty certain I heard the little one dancing on the end table. Again. *hangs head in shame* It's OK to not care every time, right?
The day started with an argument over who gets the blue sippy cup. Then most of breakfast was thrown to the dog, who was anxiously waiting for any morsel they would give her. I mentioned the gym and the meltdown started.
For Mother's Day, I want time for me. I don't give a shit about jewelry, or flowers, or candy (God, please don't let him bring candy into this house!). If I am graciously asked again what I want, Ive decided I want time for me to go to the gym on Saturday and Sunday. I want to go to the grocery store alone. I want to plant some of my garden so the kitchen stops looking like a greenhouse. And I want the promise of a night away for just the two of us.
The last one is tricky. Boy Wonder doesn't think I could stand more than a handful of hours away from the kids. My argument is that I need to spend a night away from them. I have to have that. For my own well being I need some distance from my children. If he doesn't want to go wine tour and shack up with me in some moderately cheap hotel so we can act like horny teenagers, well, I'll take myself.
Anyone have coupons for Duracell batteries?
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