A Day in the Life

I decided to do a little tracking-my-day exercise last Wednesday. It was just going to be a brief thing...but I failed at that succinct thing - you'll see what I mean if you read through. If you don't feel like slogging through my custom krayzee, feel free to click away. I won't be insulted - I don't really wanna live through it the way it is, lately, myself, so I'm right there with you. OK, here we go....

12:00AM - look at the clock and realize I still haven't fallen asleep yet; hear The Husband snoring, RIGHT next to my head and try to push him off MY side of our bed, completely unsuccessfully.

12:05AM - try AGAIN to cease The Husband's snoring, then quickly roll away and make concentrated effort to go to sleep.

12:07AM - failing miserably at falling asleep; decide to close my eyes and start counting as high as I can before I finally fall asleep.

4:23AM - six-thousand, three-hundred, ninety-eight; HOLY FRACK, I hafta PEE; wait, why am I STILL awake NOW?

4:24AM - go to the bathroom.

4:29AM - regain mental control of effort to fall asleep.

5:58AM - give up on falling asleep before the kids get up for the day; start to get out of bed only to be pulled back down and groped by sleeping The Husband; feel trapped, start mini-panic-attack.

6:10AM - hazily hear The Husband's phone alarm go off to wake him up for the day; tune it out and re-focus on the dream I think I was having.

6:32AM - rudely wake to The Husband kissing me goodbye before he leaves for work; register the door closing before passing back out again. (yes, I noticed the redundancy, there, shove it)

6:49AM - why do I have such a small bladder: can I get meds to fix it and get a good night's sleep?

8:30AM - some infrequently-used part of my brain registers Boogaloo's T.V. coming on.

9:43AM - actually wake up for my day; run downstairs for diapers and wipes to come back upstairs and change baby butts before relocating everybody to downstairs for breakfast and playing before naps

10:08AM - get everybody downstairs after fighting through diaper changes and putting on socks to fight the chill downstairs (since my MIL hasn't got the sense to turn on the HEAT, opting instead for leaving it on the cooling system but raising the temp it comes on at up to 90...not realizing that by leaving the sliding door and ALL the windows OPEN when it's 42 degrees outside is NOT going to raise the INSIDE temp enough to cause the A.C. to come on - idiot), and start the breakfast process.

10:11AM - crank up temperature and switch the central air system over to HEAT, because it's OCTOBER now, and give Boogaloo his breakfast granola bar and juice cup, and Pickle some puff cereal finger-food to keep her from cramming her fingers down her throat.

10:13AM - call The Husband, per his request; tell him about all the krayzee so far this morning.

10:24AM - conclude phone call with The Husband by getting hung up on for "being a raging bitch."

10:46AM - let kids out of breakfast-eating seats and move to other front room for play time.

11:01AM - get irritated by Pickle gagging herself with her own fingers enough to vomit; call my Momma to ask about the stuff she bought to get my brothe to stop sucking his thumb; end up talking for over an hour about my own mental health and various other aspects of my life here in Casa de Animals-are-in-Control-of-EVERYTHING-Around-Me. (well, really, how could they not be? what with there being 9 of them, total, to only 6 of us humans.)

12:16PM - get off of the phone with my Mommy (so she can actually get some work done, since she's at that thing called her, y'know, JOB), and start on nap-time bottles and diaper changes.

12:22PM - field a call from my MIL about what do I want for lunch from 7-11, and how am I felling today, oh, a little crazy, well that's completely normal so don't worry about it.

12:30PM - actually get babies in cribs for naps, only to have to fight with Pickle for 10 minutes before giving up and letting her cry herself out.

12:41PM - Pickle is done screaming, but now Boogaloo is screaming bloody-murder; go fix him a new bottle, change his diaper, and put him back into his crib to cry HIMself to sleep.

1:36PM - Boogaloo back asleep; Pickle awake, but soothed by bottle - for now.

1:48PM - Pickle up and babbling to herself in crib, playing quietly and entertaining herself.

(somewhere in here, my MIL came home bringing lunch, ate said lunch, and went back to work.)

2:09PM - Pickle no longer content in her crib; time to bring her downstairs for sole purpose of just silencing the screaming.

2:42PM - try to take a nap while Boogaloo is still asleep and Pickle is entertaining herself safely in bouncer.

3:02PM - napping failed miserably; baby is screaming for god knows what reason.

3:03PM - boy child is awake again; can I EVER get a few personal moments just to decompress? is that really so very much to ask of the world?

3:32PM - call from The Husband reminding me he's not coming right home yet, and don't have a panic attack, babe; cue fit of rage induced by the patronizing words and tone.

4:44PM - The Husband comes walking in the door about going out and doing whatever else; hello manic low, how nice of you to visit me AGAIN today, for the THIRD fracking time since I got up.

5:17PM - The Husband took Boogaloo to go get his sinus infection meds, leaving me and the Pickle to chill; great, EXCEPT...the Pickle is sick of my face and screams NON-STOP until Grandma comes in the door, and then every time Grandma leaves her sight.

5:42PM - everybody's finally home for the night, now we start thinking about dinner; oh, we're having chili for dinner: guess it's a good thing I'm not hungry in the least, huh?

6:30PM - hungry hits; I ignore it.

7:49PM - eat a "meal" of chips and dip with nothing to wash it all down with while The Husband sucks down sodas, not paying the least bit of attention to me.

7:52PM - the Pickle goes up to take a bath in Grandma's sink before Boogaloo's shower; The Husband brings Boogaloo back downstairs and taunts him with food until he screams.

8:00-10:00PM - kind of a big blur/blob in my memory; as in I don't remember it.

10:09PM - Boogaloo wakes up screaming, The Husband asks me if I'm going up to him despite being the person standing ON the stairs; I tell him we'll give it 10 minutes then go if he hasn't worked it out (Boogaloo has bad dreams on the regular, and this was sporatic and sounded dream-like; aslo, going in his room to soothe him if he's not awake causes him to TOTALLY FA-REEK OUT...while he's still DEAD ASLEEP!)

10:21PM - Boogaloo STILL screaming bloody-murder; The Husband is ignoring him, sitting in our room right next door to Boogaloo's room, so I go upstairs to see what's what...he's SOAKED in sweat and snot, poor kid could hardly breathe!

10:24PM - suck the boogers out with the booger-sucker; change him into dry PJ's so he doesn't freeze to death and end up sickER (since my MIL REFUSES to turn on the heat until it snows! "Every time I turn the heat on it gets warm outside again, and then it's too hot in the house." bitch, that's why you have A.C. too!)

10:33PM - Boogaloo is sufficiently soothed and reaching for his crib to go back to bed.

10:35PM - bedtime routine (the short one) and the Boogaloo is back in bed, asleep; as I'm leaving the room The Husband RE-starts the fight we've been working through all night.

10:36-11:28PM - I stand in the doorway to our room, trying not to raise my voice while arguing with The Husband over what an idiot he's been lately; seething anger starts making me shake, I lose my vision and hearing; The Husband walks over (from where he's been sitting on the bed all this time) and grabs me; he tells me I was fine for a minute or two, then just completely crumpled (we later figured out I blacked-out), so he dragged me over and laid me on our bed (or so he tells me he did) and laid down next to me.

11:35PM - I have a sense of not being on my feet anymore; open my eyes slowly and it's dark, but I see the glows of everything electronic in our room; realize I'm on my back in bed and proceed to freak the eff out because I can't feel my toes/feet; The Husband sees I'm awake/conscious and tells me everything that happened with tears barely under control. (I remember thinking how funny it was that he could go from acting like such a jerk to trying to take care of me at the drop of a hat.)

11:50PM - last time I actually remember seeing before The Husband's phone alarm woke me up Thursday morning.

And I used to actually wonder why I'm so utterly exhausted by the end of the day....