In Over My Head

I totally freaked on my husband yesterday morning.

After three evenings spent at my MIL’s, three evenings in which I was getting nothing done at my own house, I came to Saturday morning with a kitchen to clean, a week’s worth of mail and bills to sort, file, and/or shred, and more than a week’s worth of laundry. Dan informed me — as he was walking out the door to go to work this morning — that he was on his third day of going commando. Although I had managed to keep my children in pajamas (so to speak) they were out of socks. I, myself, am having a hard time with clothes between not having clean ones and not having much that fits well at this point.

I was at my ILs because we were invited. I was at my ILs because my MIL was trying to help me — she DID help me, as she fed us all, and my daughters had two sleepovers along with Niece, and I came home to collapse in bed at the early hour of 9 p.m. And I was not wakened by pee-drenched or nightmare-scared children.

But I wasn’t getting home until 9 p.m. Which meant my chores weren’t getting done.

And with every intention of getting right down to it this morning being thwarted (unwittingly, I suppose) by my children every five minutes, I pretty much had a breakdown on the phone with my dear husband.

Who was perfectly understanding.

The upshot was that I sent him to the party we had both planned to attend; the babysitter came over; I continued to clean, and then went shopping (at Costco); the babysitter bathed my children; and I put them to bed.

I know it wasn’t ideal, but nothing is right now. (If ever.) I am glad I still have two more days in this weekend because I only got about half of what I needed to done, and we are hosting dinner tomorrow. I gotta decide what jobs I am handing over to Dan (mopping the floor is probably high on that list) and chip away at everything else.

The part that is toughest is that with all the time my children have spent in the care of others (my mom & dad were down last weekend so that Dan & I could clean — nay, purge — our office) lately, I haven’t gotten to spend a lot of time with them myself.

And I miss the little buggers, for as crazy as some stuff is driving me (more on that later).

But I scared myself (and my husband) with my stress and my tears yesterday morning. And sometimes I wonder what we have gotten into.

And then I take a deep breath, send a prayer up to God, and pretty much (try to) get on with it.

Because, you know, this: