Tuesday, October 12, 2010

An H-E-Double Hockey Sticks Type of Day

Today was one of those days. Those days where you just have an inkling that all hell will break loose in your household, you just don't know when. I appropriately dressed Brayden in his "My Parents are Exhausted" t-shirt. Apparently even my sub conscience was on the right track this morning.

Our morning started out innocently enough. I had my 33 week OB appointment, so I scurried Brayden through our morning rituals, dressed him, dressed myself, and had us both out of the door by 8:15. I dropped him off at my friend's house and headed on to the hospital for my appointment. I always schedule my appointments to be the first appointment of the day. Makes for a little chaos in the morning, but I HATE waiting on the doctor. I was called back like normal today, peed in the cup, got weighed (and almost started crying as I gained 6 pounds in 2 weeks-- I am destined to surpass my weight gain I had with Brayden), had my blood pressure checked, and was left to wait for the doctor. So I waited. And waited. And waited. I ended up waiting 30 minutes. At least anyway. 30 minutes was the last I had checked the clock before she entered the exam room. The exam itself was short and sweet. Once I picked up Brayden from my friend's house, we headed to Target to get Connor's crib mattress. I had to lug the mattress around on the cart while simultaneously trying to keep Brayden seated on his bottom. I passed numerous associates and no one even offered to help. I checked out and had to lug the mattress out to the CRV, and load it myself. Then we headed home.

And that's where the yarn unraveled so to speak. For some odd reason Brayden did not want to play with his toys. It didn't matter if I was with him, if he was gated in his room, or if I told him to go and play, he refused. And if he was in his room, whether I was with him or not, he would cry. It was that whiny, screamy type of cry that makes my skin crawl. I am a babywise mom. I do cry it out (or I did when he was little... he's past sleep training now). So crying normally doesn't really get under my skin. But the whiny cry? Oh man. It makes me boil on the inside. So I gated him in his room in hopes he'd forget why he was whining and so that I could actually accomplish something. The only thing I got to was chopping vegetables for our vegetable soup I planned on making for dinner tonight. Then it was time for lunch. Thankfully he ate well, but after he ate he went back to whining. Then he was testing. Every single, bloody rule that we have (like standing on the couches, playing with the DVD player, getting in the trash can, etc) he wanted to break. It didn't matter if he was put in time out, if the toy was taken away (I don't allow him to hit things with the toys since he's really into hitting Toby right now)... nothing changed. We went outside. He got into the stuff he knows not to get into. So we came back inside. I turned on a show... he didn't want to watch it. I mean, really, the kid had it out to get on my every nerve today. I put him down for his nap early since he was so whiny and everything I tried to do didn't help. Unfortunately he thought that an hour and a half nap was all he needed today. I left him in his crib in hopes that he'd go back to sleep, but he never did. So I got him up at 3 and hoped for the best. Joke was on me, as he continued with the antics from earlier in the day at full force. By 4:15 I knew I wouldn't make it until Drew got home, so I strapped him into the car seat and set off. No where to go, but I realized that in the car seat, he can scream but can't get into anything. We park hopped around the local parks, and I let him blow off steam. We did that for almost 2 hours. When we got home I tried to feed him dinner, but apparently vegetables don't taste as good in stew as they do plain so he would have nothing of it. Spit out every single bite. At that point I was literally about to go insane, so I just got him up from the table and locked both of us in his room so that he couldn't get out and was forced to play with his toys (which he didn't) until Drew got home. Thankfully he ate for Drew, but he remained fussy until we put him down for the night.

Tonight I was able to muster enough energy to sweep and mop our floors. Mainly because it hasn't been done in so long and I was getting tired of looking at all of the milk and coffee spots on the floor. Now I am sitting here on the couch in a semi-comatose state, hoping, nay PRAYING that tomorrow is better. And wishing that I could down a few glasses of Merlot in the process.

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