Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Can I Just Bitch for a Minute?

Yesterday left me so tired and stressed, I'm still very much feeling it today. I'm in an absolute funk and don't seem to be able to claw my way out of it.

So Saturday and Sunday nights, I worked graveyards, as per usual. Sunday before work, I was talking with Mr. Wolfman about the monster and how advanced he is, and how we need to figure out what we're going to do for extra academic stimulation in our tiny town. I made some comment about how we may not even be here by the time he starts school in a couple of years and if we move somewhere bigger, they may have more options for special classes*.

Mr. Wolfman then starts asking me what I'm talking about, and come to find out, what I thought was our very solid, agreed upon plan of finding out in the spring if there's any more room for advancement in his current job - and if not, looking for work outside of this town - was actually not our plan, and that the earliest we will likely move is the end of summer, 2018. 18. We will have been in this shit village for 5 years. I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE. It's not really a shit village. It's nice, if you're an outdoors person (I'd like to be, but I can't take the monster out hiking alone, because there's a reasonable chance we'd be eaten by wild animals - not an exaggeration. There are wolves, bears, mountain lions and coyotes around here). It's also nice if you're into winter sports (I'm not. And anyway, I'm pregnant this winter, next winter I will have a toddler and an infant, the next winter I'll have a preschooler and a toddler). Property here is prohibitively expensive, daycare here is prohibitively expensive. So basically, I'm going to remain a mostly SAHM until 2018, whether I want to or not (not that there's anything approaching a fulfilling job for me here, even if I had the education and experience, which I don't). At which point, I'll still have no education, and I'll have been out of the workforce for 4 years. I'm sure that'll look great on my resume.

So I went to bed, woke up to none of the food DH had said he was going to cook, went work at 11pm in a shit mood, got home around 8am, Mr. Wolfman let me sleep until almost 11, so nearly 3 hours, yay. I wanted to go out, Mr. Wolfman said he needed to shower before doing anything else. Two hours of sitting on the couch  later, he finally has his shower, comes out saying I should be ready to go (even though he hadn't said whether he wanted to go anywhere), because he thought he was driving me to the store to buy a plunger (oh yeah, I clogged the toilet on Saturday). I said I could walk to the store, so he says ok and sits back down on the couch and reads until it's time to go to work.

My plan was to work on cleaning the new glider (I got it for free from a buy&sell site. One of the things about our small village is that people leave frequently, and big, ugly furniture tends to get given away, so it being free was not suspicious at all. She said it was smoke and pet free. The lady's house smelled a little funky, but I didn't want to sniff this thing right in front of her. I should have. It smelled awful, but I didn't realize that until I got home and started to clean it. I had already gone out on Sunday afternoon to buy pet odour and urine stain remover). The cleaning solution seemed to bring whatever locked-in stench to the surface, so I was going to spray it, open all the windows, then go out to buy the plunger. I also needed to go grocery shopping because DH had decided that he didn't want the meal he didn't cook on Sunday night, he wanted something else that we needed more supplies for.

It took over 2 hours to leave the house, mostly due to the monster getting a tiny bit dressed, then needing to pee. So I've been smelling this stupid cleaner/random chair stink this whole time and starting to get a headache.

We finally got out of the house, walked about 15-20 minutes, then the monster has to pee. I tell him hang on, we run to the nearest bathroom (about 3 mins away) and he's had his first accident in over 2 weeks, soaked through his underwear, pants, shirt and sweater and wetted his coat and stroller. Get him cleaned up. But it hadn't occurred to me to bring an extra shirt or sweater and it was cold outside, so I put him in my hoodie ("Monster will have no sweater. Too long!") and go to the store to find a shirt for him that doesn't leave half his chest exposed. No luck there. He needs to pee again, so we end up using the staff bathroom in the back of the store. Grab plunger.

Go to an outdoor store and buy him an expensive base layer shirt. He has to pee again. Rush him to the nearest toilet.

Go to go to another store because I just got invited to my sister's baby shower (3rd in 4 years) and I need to find a reasonably cheap present for her.

Go to the bank. He needs to pee again. Bank is closed, so the nearest one is about 7-10 mins away. I tell him to hold it, finish at the ATM and bloody run to the grocery store. He's already had another accident. Change him, get him cleaned up (thank God I had a ridiculous stash of clean underwear and pants with me). Put him in a random diaper I found in the stroller, because fuck. Finish grocery shopping.

Go to visit Mr. Wolfman at work to drop off the apple he'd requested (at this point I'd been out for some 3.5 hours, on food, dealing with all of this).  The monster fell asleep on the way there, so after dropping off the apple and a snack for Mr. Wolfman, I go home, leave the monster in the stroller and collapse for a bit (maybe an hour and a half).

At the monster's bedtime, he was still asleep so I carefully transferred him to his own bed, go to cook food, and of course he wakes up. Wants food, wants stories, wants EVERYTHING.  Mr. Wolfman gets home and immediately starts complaining about various things that I haven't done around the house. He hangs up laundry - after complaining, because he works - then sits on the computer, because apparently getting the monster ready for bed is 100% my responsibility, for no fucking reason. I said I could cook and he could put the monster to bed, or he could cook and I could put the monster to bed. He is really resistant to doing bedtime.

Oh, and during this time, I discover massive haemorrhoids. I've been insisting I need that stupid damn glider for ages and telling Mr. Wolfman that if he keeps making me do bedtime (I usually have to sit on a step stool, because the monster's bed is so little), I'm going to get them. DH didn't see the point of buying a glider or any comfortable furniture and thought it was a waste of money/space. I only got the one I got because it was free. So yay for fire ass for the next 15 weeks.

So I finally get the monster ready for bed, get him to pee again (his diaper, after all that, was miraculously dry). Finally drag him to bed, read him his stories and try to get him to sleep. He won't sleep. After nearly an hour, he's asleep, I try to sneak out of the room, he wakes up and starts crying. I have to lie in his toddler bed with him and hug him until he's asleep, apparently. So I do this. He drifts off.  I'm about to sneak out when Mr. Wolfman opens the door, letting in light, then comes and stands over the bed, waking the monster up, then goes back out of the room (... thanks?). So I lie there some more and eventually both the monster and I drift off. Mr. Wolfman comes back in to go to bed. I get up to take my pill and find some food (Wolfman didn't cook anything, big surprise), monster wakes up and starts crying. I take my pill and hurry back to bed without even brushing my teeth.

Eventually I bring the monster to my bed, because, remember, I'm doing all this on 3 hours of sleep and I don't have the energy to enforce him sleeping in his own bed. By now it's well after midnight. He squirms around and fusses and takes probably another hour to fall asleep. Then he tosses and turns all night, waking me up repeatedly, but, of course, not Mr. Wolfman, who sleeps through anything.

Monster is up before 8am, because why the fuck not?

aaand, that's been my week so far. I'm starving and now have to cook dinner for lunch because Wolfman's insistence we get ingredients for a meal he apparently didn't even want (he ate at work, so he was fine) screwed up our budget for today.

Fuck. I'm so exhausted and so bitter and so at a loose end. All I want to do is curl into a ball and sleep for the next 10 years.  And this is supposed to be the relaxing time, before number two gets here.


*Maybe jumping the gun a bit here, but the monster has surpassed every non-motor-related milestone (as well as a few motor ones) incredibly early, so far. He already knows the alphabet, his shapes, colours, how to count to 10 in two languages and can count in his head. He can name all 30(!) of his toy cars (just make and/or model, not year). Generally, I think a lot of the stuff he knows is stuff that they go over in JK, two years from now, so we're a little concerned.

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