Today I am feeling very emotional. I feel like it is so irrational and beyond my control and not at all related to anything that is really going on in my life and so I am blaming it on hormones from pregnancy. But it still is difficult. I have that constant raw feeling in my throat. And everything- good or bad or indifferent, enhances that feeling. My watermelon slice broke in my hand and got all over the kitchen floor. I wanted to cry about it. I watched a snippet on 60 Minutes about Michael Phelps and wanted to cry out of pride that he accomplished his goals and that his mom is so proud of him. I came down to the absolute wreck that is my house after finally getting my girls to sleep at 9pm after a full day with no nap and wanted to weep at how overwhelmed I am one day into a 12 day stretch of being alone with all this. I am not really a person that cries a lot. I hate the feeling afterwards when my whole body is still heaving and my face is a swollen wreck. My face takes about 2 days to get back to normal after I cry. If I cry within a few hours of going to sleep, the next day I look like I got beat up.
I don't know how to come out of this. Normally I would go work out or do something to pamper myself, but I can't exactly do that right now without a lot of coordination of childcare and a lot of cleaning before anyone walked in the door to take care of my kids. This is when I really wish I lived close to family. Being with someone else helps a lot. I think I am going to get up early and get the girls and dog out the door as early as I can so I can get a good walk in to start the day. Hopefully getting my blood flowing will help. Wish me luck.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Dog-UGH
My poor dog. I really do love him. He is sweet, very gentle, very sensitive and in tune with the moods at our house. He lets my kids dress him up, lead him around the house, even up the stairs by his collar without any hint of complaint or any sign of aggression. He puts up with being fed late, being fed the same food every day twice a day. He rarely has accidents in the house and waits patiently to be taken out. Well, not really- he whines a lot when he needs to go out, but usually it is because I have forgotten to take him out. He thinks he is a lap dog even though he is too big and heavy and bony to really be a lap dog. If you are sitting on a flat surface for more than 2 minutes, chances are he will be next to you with his head on your lap or tucked behind your back. He has very expressive eyes and ears. He is a sweet dog. But, he is also neurotic.
I always say it is like he is a visitor to another planet and he is trying so hard to understand us- our habits, our language, our rules, but he just can't and it really eats him up. Whenever anyone comes to our house he barks and if we let the person in he makes a big fuss greeting them with jumping barking running around, sometimes jumping over the couch to get to his bed. Then he chews a plastic bone for the next 45 minutes. It is nervous chewing, very focused, very intense.
When my husband is gone (which is every other week for a week to 10 days half the year) he cannot handle it. He whines about everything. He whines to go out, he whines to be fed, he whines to be given the leftovers from your plate. He whines to be tucked in under a cover, he whines when he wants you to sit down so he can jump on your lap. He whines and whines and whines about EVERYthing.
He also cannot handle it when we leave him alone in the house. He is four and a half, and we pretty much leave him alone for some part of the day every day, and have done so almost every day of his life. Still, he cannot handle it. Especially when my husband is gone, but also when he is here, if we leave, we have to dog proof the house before we go. If we don't "dog proof" we come home to: bags of bulk cereal shaken all over the floor, diapers eaten, sticks of butter eaten and then buried in his bed, missing loaves of bread found under our bed, etc. He has been to the vet 4 times to get his stomach emptied by induced vomiting because he ate the contents of a dirty diaper that was not in a diaper pail. This usually happens when my husband is away and one of our parents has come to help us with the babies. They don't realize the importance of dog-proofing. We never throw away any diaper in any trash can that the dog can get to.
Today I woke up and vacuumed the house before packing lunches and getting all of us ready to go on a play date. Our house was the in-case-of-rain location so I wanted the dust off the floor where kids would be crawling. It took a long time and the vacuum always stirs up the dog and my girls. We got out the door late, and it did look like rain so I was glad that the house was pretty clean. We ended up staying a long time at the park and not coming to our house. I was so glad to be returning to a clean house for a change.
The first thing I noticed was a diaper on the dog bed. Not good. It was pretty much the shell of a diaper. I pictured a long day at the weekend animal hospital alone with my two girls and my pregnant belly waiting for him to be seen, then waiting for him to vomit up all the contents of the diaper before we could take him home. Then I noticed what looked like confetti and dew drops everywhere I looked. On the floor, on the couch, on the fireplace, on the front of the china cabinet. On the table, the chairs, the slats of wood on the back of the chairs. The window sills, the stairs, under the couch, under the table. EVERYWHERE. It was the contents of the diaper.
I cannot imagine how he got it in all the places he got it. He had to have been attacking the thing- shaking it in every direction, jumping around with it. Part of me wishes I had video surveillance of my house. I just couldn't believe it. THANK GOODNESS the play date did not end up at my house. My friends and their kids would have walked into my new house covered in cotton shavings and pee-saturated gel from the inside of one diaper. The gel is what makes the diapers so absorbent. It fills with whatever liquid it touches. In this case, urine. Since we never throw away diapers in any trashcan that is open to the dog- this one must have been from when my parents were here a few days ago. Lovely 3 day old urine all over every surface of the downstairs of my house.
The gel is sticky and not easy to vacuum. Clean up took about 45 minutes. Sometimes I could just shake that dog. A box of butter softening from the freezer was also missing. I had gotten it out in case we did have to have the play date at our house. I thought we could make cookies. I found it in the rocking chair in the nursery. Oh what a dog. When I was done cleaning and locating the missing box of butter, I found him in my room on my pillow with the guiltiest look on his face, trembling. I scolded him and he skulked into his own bed in the smallest ball he could form with his long bony body. Sad guilty dog eyes and ears down in supplication.
Five minutes later he was whining to go out.
I always say it is like he is a visitor to another planet and he is trying so hard to understand us- our habits, our language, our rules, but he just can't and it really eats him up. Whenever anyone comes to our house he barks and if we let the person in he makes a big fuss greeting them with jumping barking running around, sometimes jumping over the couch to get to his bed. Then he chews a plastic bone for the next 45 minutes. It is nervous chewing, very focused, very intense.
When my husband is gone (which is every other week for a week to 10 days half the year) he cannot handle it. He whines about everything. He whines to go out, he whines to be fed, he whines to be given the leftovers from your plate. He whines to be tucked in under a cover, he whines when he wants you to sit down so he can jump on your lap. He whines and whines and whines about EVERYthing.
He also cannot handle it when we leave him alone in the house. He is four and a half, and we pretty much leave him alone for some part of the day every day, and have done so almost every day of his life. Still, he cannot handle it. Especially when my husband is gone, but also when he is here, if we leave, we have to dog proof the house before we go. If we don't "dog proof" we come home to: bags of bulk cereal shaken all over the floor, diapers eaten, sticks of butter eaten and then buried in his bed, missing loaves of bread found under our bed, etc. He has been to the vet 4 times to get his stomach emptied by induced vomiting because he ate the contents of a dirty diaper that was not in a diaper pail. This usually happens when my husband is away and one of our parents has come to help us with the babies. They don't realize the importance of dog-proofing. We never throw away any diaper in any trash can that the dog can get to.
Today I woke up and vacuumed the house before packing lunches and getting all of us ready to go on a play date. Our house was the in-case-of-rain location so I wanted the dust off the floor where kids would be crawling. It took a long time and the vacuum always stirs up the dog and my girls. We got out the door late, and it did look like rain so I was glad that the house was pretty clean. We ended up staying a long time at the park and not coming to our house. I was so glad to be returning to a clean house for a change.
The first thing I noticed was a diaper on the dog bed. Not good. It was pretty much the shell of a diaper. I pictured a long day at the weekend animal hospital alone with my two girls and my pregnant belly waiting for him to be seen, then waiting for him to vomit up all the contents of the diaper before we could take him home. Then I noticed what looked like confetti and dew drops everywhere I looked. On the floor, on the couch, on the fireplace, on the front of the china cabinet. On the table, the chairs, the slats of wood on the back of the chairs. The window sills, the stairs, under the couch, under the table. EVERYWHERE. It was the contents of the diaper.
I cannot imagine how he got it in all the places he got it. He had to have been attacking the thing- shaking it in every direction, jumping around with it. Part of me wishes I had video surveillance of my house. I just couldn't believe it. THANK GOODNESS the play date did not end up at my house. My friends and their kids would have walked into my new house covered in cotton shavings and pee-saturated gel from the inside of one diaper. The gel is what makes the diapers so absorbent. It fills with whatever liquid it touches. In this case, urine. Since we never throw away diapers in any trashcan that is open to the dog- this one must have been from when my parents were here a few days ago. Lovely 3 day old urine all over every surface of the downstairs of my house.
The gel is sticky and not easy to vacuum. Clean up took about 45 minutes. Sometimes I could just shake that dog. A box of butter softening from the freezer was also missing. I had gotten it out in case we did have to have the play date at our house. I thought we could make cookies. I found it in the rocking chair in the nursery. Oh what a dog. When I was done cleaning and locating the missing box of butter, I found him in my room on my pillow with the guiltiest look on his face, trembling. I scolded him and he skulked into his own bed in the smallest ball he could form with his long bony body. Sad guilty dog eyes and ears down in supplication.
Five minutes later he was whining to go out.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Help?
I must hold things awkwardly. Whenever I lift something, even what I believe to be a fairly light load, people always ask me if I need help. Some dive forward as if to catch what I just picked up. People have come up to me after watching me walk a ways with a heavy load to tell me they can't believe I carried that much that far- that they have been watching me for four blocks and thought I would drop everything long before. When I hand my husband my purse or diaper bag or luggage, he usually looks at me in surprise and then adjusts the load accordingly. When I was 17, someone who cared about me told me I never let people help me. My first thought was, that's not true, but seeing him empty-handed as I carried 4 bags on my body and an armload of stuff into a meeting gave me pause.
I don't know why I am like this. Maybe being the oldest child in a big family, I automatically try to carry as much as I can since I was always a helper. Maybe I am lazy and want to take as few trips as possible.
I certainly carry too much at a time. I don't need as much as I carry in my purse, my car, my attic and garage and bathroom cabinets. Having just moved it all I am ready to purge a lot of the extra stuff I have. Being pregnant I realize I need to lighten what I carry and take more trips from the car. But I still always automatically refuse help when offered. It's just a reflex reaction, and I am beginning to think it's silly. Allowing people to help you opens you up to a connection with them. I just automatically feel that no it's not necessary- save that offer for a time when I REALLY need help. Which is ridiculous because I would willingly help anyone as many times as they needed. It's not like there is only a certain amount of assistance out there and I will use it all up by letting people help me carry things.
I remember times when I was very offended when people assumed I needed help or just simply took things out of my arms as if I couldn't do it myself. I see this in my 3 year old daughters and I see how ridiculous it is. I see them struggle and I want to help them and they get really mad at me and tell me they can do it all by themselves. But then there are times when I know they can carry something of theirs in the house and they say they can't and I get annoyed then too.
My husband doesn't automatically offer to carry things for me. Ironically, this is something I like about him. He knows what I can and can't carry. A funny thing he always does that I tease him about is- he can't get in the car with anything in his hands. If he is carrying something to the car, he usually hands it to me before walking around to the driver's seat. As if it is easier for me to get in the passenger seat with all his stuff than for him to do it himself. Usually I just put it in the back before getting in myself. But why can't he do the same thing?
But lately, I get annoyed when he doesn't offer to help. Maybe it is the pregnancy, or the fact that my hip is hurting again, but if I am struggling, I don't want to be left alone, I want help. Total strangers notice this, but sometimes those closest to us do not. I am finding myself asking for help more, which is a big step for me. Help from my husband, my girls, my sister. I need to work toward asking for help from friends and acquaintances and even strangers as well. I know I would help if asked so I need to ask myself. It's still difficult though.
I don't know why I am like this. Maybe being the oldest child in a big family, I automatically try to carry as much as I can since I was always a helper. Maybe I am lazy and want to take as few trips as possible.
I certainly carry too much at a time. I don't need as much as I carry in my purse, my car, my attic and garage and bathroom cabinets. Having just moved it all I am ready to purge a lot of the extra stuff I have. Being pregnant I realize I need to lighten what I carry and take more trips from the car. But I still always automatically refuse help when offered. It's just a reflex reaction, and I am beginning to think it's silly. Allowing people to help you opens you up to a connection with them. I just automatically feel that no it's not necessary- save that offer for a time when I REALLY need help. Which is ridiculous because I would willingly help anyone as many times as they needed. It's not like there is only a certain amount of assistance out there and I will use it all up by letting people help me carry things.
I remember times when I was very offended when people assumed I needed help or just simply took things out of my arms as if I couldn't do it myself. I see this in my 3 year old daughters and I see how ridiculous it is. I see them struggle and I want to help them and they get really mad at me and tell me they can do it all by themselves. But then there are times when I know they can carry something of theirs in the house and they say they can't and I get annoyed then too.
My husband doesn't automatically offer to carry things for me. Ironically, this is something I like about him. He knows what I can and can't carry. A funny thing he always does that I tease him about is- he can't get in the car with anything in his hands. If he is carrying something to the car, he usually hands it to me before walking around to the driver's seat. As if it is easier for me to get in the passenger seat with all his stuff than for him to do it himself. Usually I just put it in the back before getting in myself. But why can't he do the same thing?
But lately, I get annoyed when he doesn't offer to help. Maybe it is the pregnancy, or the fact that my hip is hurting again, but if I am struggling, I don't want to be left alone, I want help. Total strangers notice this, but sometimes those closest to us do not. I am finding myself asking for help more, which is a big step for me. Help from my husband, my girls, my sister. I need to work toward asking for help from friends and acquaintances and even strangers as well. I know I would help if asked so I need to ask myself. It's still difficult though.
Friday, May 8, 2009
So Tired
My husband has been gone for 5 days and no one has been sleeping well at night. I don't recall ever feeling this tired. Even after 4 months with newborn twins I think I had more mental and physical energy than I do at this moment. Part of the problem is I can't nap since my girls are not napping every day. If I leave them unattended for a minute, they get into something or destroy something. So I am up and trying to think of things for us to do all the time. Exhausting. Right now the house is a mess, I have no idea what we are having for dinner, I have read all the books my daughters care to hear, and I can barely keep my eyes open. I have a long to-do list but all I want to do is sleep. zzzzz
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