Some days I want to hit rewind or do-over.
Things started okay – I actually got on my treadmill this morning AND turned it on. Got to work early and accomplished a lot. Interacted with the students, which I rarely get to do in this position, to photograph them for a surprise project I’m working on. These were the higher highs.
Lower lows included going to a new neurologist for a second opinion. My face has been numb since late September and I’m looking for answers. First thing was the weigh-in. THAT was fun. They had a large steel square on the floor that I had to step on. I felt like a truck or a farm animal. The digital numbers flashed in front of me - numbers larger than I’ve seen in over 10 years. Then the nurse said, “Is that right?” “I don’t know” “How tall are you?” “5’8”, why?” At this point I’m about as humiliated as I could be. Was she asking if it was possible that someone could be this fat? “We’ve been having problems with the scale” Great. Just my luck. Actually, the scale was working fine. I’m just big right now.
The appointment was not exactly what I expected. My well-educated neurologist had no idea what’s wrong with me. Here was his analogy: “Some nights you wake up and hear a noise. You walk around and you can’t find anything. The doors and windows are still locked. No one is lurking around. What does that mean? That nothing is there.” Yup. My University of Utah brain doctor has no idea what’s wrong with me and basically told me to relax. Sure. Did I mention that my FACE IS NUMB!!!!!!!!!
After the doctor, I went to get the kids and the pick up went from bad to worse. Ella was in a really bad mood. She was whiny and disrespectful – not in her nature usually – that’s more my style. Just to add to the madness was her refusal to sit on the toilet. Great. I have six whole days till she needs to be completely potty trained. Picking up Harrison didn’t go any better. Both kids ran from me in opposite directions. I’m sure you can fill in the blanks.
Beth called while I was in transit to schedule our “training” walk. She offered Dave up for sitting all the kids as Chris stayed at work late. My kids were so out of control by the time we drove into my driveway that I kept them strapped in their seats while I ran in and changed into my workout clothes. There’s some classic Dr. Spock.
Our visit to the Adam’s went well until we had to leave. Same old drill. Ella and Harrison have the directions embossed in their brains. When Mom wants/needs to leave, make it as DIFFICULT as possible. Run away. Refuse to put coat and shoes on. Talk back. We finally made it out, but the added struggles started to send me over the edge.
Putting the kids through the bedtime routine by myself is kind of hard. They both need a lot of individual attention. Highlights of this evening: lots of yelling, lots of crying, lots of guilt and one spanking. I spanked Harry and he looked at me and said, “that didn’t hurt” – this was uttered by the same Harrison who just yesterday I was so enchanted by. I proceeded to pull his pants down and slap his bare bottom. He started to cry. Hard. I cried too.
Chris called to check in during all of this and I managed to spread my love to him. I told him it was completely unfair that he wasn’t home. (Mind you I have worked over 40 hours of overtime in the last four weeks or so and he has not once complained let alone yelled at me to COME HOME.) He still hasn’t come home and it’s 10:30 PM. He must have a lot of work to do.
Kids are asleep and I’m all alone feeling awful. I work so much and have so little time with my kids. Why wasn’t I able to make them laugh tonight? Why did I yell so quickly? Why didn’t I use the great tactic of distraction more often? Why did I hit my son? I am mortified with myself.