August 26, 2009

Mama said there'd be days like this

Worst day of parenting for me so far. Bar none.

Daniel is out of town for four days. I opted to stay home because it would be better for the kids right before school starts. Better for them, maybe, but CERTAINLY not for me. I knew this, but I had no idea to the degree it would prove true.

The morning began with nursing the baby while the two big boys cried from their beds to get up. When Brave had finished his breakfast, I dashed into the boys' room to get them for their breakfast. As soon as I opened their door, I had to make another dash...this time for the toilet. What is THIS???!!! Dtrain now??!!! Today???!!!

The rest of the morning consisted of me making dashes. Dashing to get the boys a drink and another muffin and then dashing to the bathroom. Dashing to stick the pacifier in Brave's mouth to keep him from crying and then dashing to the bathroom. Dashing to change Zion's poopy diaper before it worsened his rash and then dashing to put the baby down for his nap before he got over-tired and then dashing to the bathroom. Dashing to help Bright learn to wipe his own butt so he's ready for school next week and then dashing back to nurse the baby...then dashing to the bathroom with baby on my boob and nursing him right on the John.

The afternoon was no better. Brave decided to have THE WORST day of his life. He slept zip from late morning until 8 p.m., and needed to be held every minute or he would punish me with a skin-crawling scream. Zion woke up from his nap just howling, and at one point I was holding both babies, one screaming in each of my ears, while I sang, "Is there life out there" at the top of my lungs.

Presently the three of them are quiet in their beds, hopefully for the night. I have three more days of this to go. Wow. Can I make it? I lost my cool once today and growled at Bright when he almost swung his radio into Zion's head. He cried hysterically for nearly and hour, asking for his daddy, and telling me not to ever speak to him like that again. Then I melted down and cried when I was trying to put Zion's pajama pants on and couldn't get his foot through the cuff opening. I just broke down and wept.

And I'll be up at least once in the night to nurse my newborn.

If I can make it through the next three days alive, I will have achieved super-hero status.