Breather

I need a breather. I'm not talking like a five minute break to take some deep breaths (although even that would be nice right about now). What I'm talking about is a 3-day weekend at a spa resort. I don't even know if I'd want to go with a few girlfriends - I think I'd like it to be just me.

The past 3 days have been hell. Well, the past few weeks - since September 15th when the boys first got sick - have been hell, but the past 3 days have been something entirely different. Like that book that talks about the circles of hell - who was that by? Dante Alighieri I think? Oh yes - Dante's Inferno. Anyway, I feel like I've slowly been working my way through the circles of hell, and today I've reached the middle.

I dropped two f-bombs on the Verizon lady this morning after being on hold for a total of about 2 hours and then being told that I should walk up and down the street looking for numbers on the telephone poles. Are you effing kidding me? Isn't that the Verizon guy's job? Not the lady who just moved into a new house with a 2 year old and a 9 month old to take care of too? I was livid.

Fast forward to the boys' naptime. Ben went down pretty easily at 2:20. Logan was due to go down at that same time, but continued to cry and sit himself up in his crib. After 5 minutes I put him back down, and came back downstairs. After 5 more minutes of continued crying I went back up and discovered he had a huge load in his diaper. So I changed him, rocked with him, and put him down in the crib again. Usually this is the part where he falls fast asleep (the poop release really seems to relax him). But he kept crying and sitting himself up. So at 3:00 I decided to abort the nap and try again in half an hour - that was me trying to remain calm, cool and collected.

In the past 3 days, I have not touched any of the boxes in our bedroom, and as a result I'm quickly running out of clothes to wear. I had to search and search for clean undies to wear today (necessary since I'm wearing the same jeans I've worn for the past 4 days - ew). So after the aborted nap I brought Logan into my room, explained to him that Mommy couldn't hold him, Mommy had work to do. After a brief protest he was fine with that and busied himself chewing on a Robeez shoe that somehow happened to be in my closet.

At 3:15 Ben woke up screaming. I put Logan down then, and got Ben, who was still screaming (I think he's disoriented when he wakes up because his new room is really dark. We need to get some nightlights for him). Ben wanted to be held, so I held him for a few minutes, then explained to him that Mommy couldn't hold him, Mommy had work to do. Ben kept screaming. Logan kept screaming. I screamed a little.

I aborted Logan's nap time, I aborted unpacking my stuff, I hoisted one boy under each arm, I headed downstairs, I dropped them off in the playroom (stopping briefly to wipe the tears that were forming in my eyes) and I poured myself a large glass of Chardonnay, which I don't even like, but I'm finding very satisfying right now.