At 3-3:30 a.m., I come awake. Often because already this baby is right on top of my bladder. But sometimes because a scared Kate has come to me for comfort. Or a thunderstorm is passing through.
I am awake for an hour, trying to calm my mind enough to sleep.
I’m so tired.
This morning, my alarm went off at 5:30 a.m., and I couldn’t get up. I hit snooze for nearly an hour.
I finally struggled out of bed and downstairs. I have to eat something first thing lately, or the nausea is worse than usual. Well, today, it was worse than usual anyway.
I’m sure glad I happened to clean that toilet before I puked in it.
And then Kate woke up and she had wet the bed. So I tended to her, showered but only half-dressed. Flora didn’t have night-time accidents once she was potty-trained, but Kate seems to have suffered a major setback yesterday.
All-in-all, Kate and I had difficult evening yesterday. She wouldn’t listen to me at Flora’s soccer practice, and she pooped her pants three times! And I didn’t have a change of clothes for her because I thought we were well past that. So, I threw out a pair of underpants (again) and she went commando for awhile, then she wore Flora’s pants (Flora had changed for soccer into shorts), and then the last 15 minutes of so of practice, she walked around with a poop stain on her butt.
Mother of the year, right here.
Lately it seems with Kate that everything requires negotiation — or, more to the point, bribes and/or threats. “If you do XX, you can have chocolate.” “If you do not listen to me, you cannot watch a TV show tonight.” EVERY SINGLE INTERACTION with her. Well, not dinner time often. That girl eats her weight in food every day lately.
Last night was a loss-of-privileges night. The not listening coupled with the poopy pants (and, yeah, that port-o-potty didn’t go anywhere) meant she didn’t get a TV show. (Flora did while I was bathing Kate.) I just had to ride out that storm.
It was nearly 10 p.m. before I went to bed, and I was dragging way before then.
Anyhoo, this post is nearly incoherent. But let me just add that I have buckets of laundry to fold (and, you know, actually launder), stairs to vacuum, and my parents visiting this weekend.
When’s my nap?
As an aside, I have a funny relationship with the word that is the title of this post.