I've been away because I've been terribly busy and stressed out. My friend is most likely to be induced tomorrow evening. Ive been back and forth visiting her and very busy taking care of little Doobie. Since he's gotten sick, he's slept through the night ONCE. He woke up at least once every night, but on some nights four or 5 times. And the worst part? He didn't want to go back to bed. He didn't want me to change him. He didn't want me to hold him. He wanted to scream.
My patience and energy was at an all time low.
There were so many times when I wanted to scream at him. I didn't, but I feel incredibly guilty because I even thought about screaming. I wanted him to go away for a while because I was WAY too tired to be dealing with that.
I couldn't grocery shop without him screaming and climbing out of the cart. I couldn't take him on walks without him crawling out of the stroller. Foods he typically loves were thrown on the floor. He hit me. He bit me. He kicked and thrashed every time I tried to change his diaper.
Since being sick, he was a royal pain. I called him a jerk. I felt terrible, but it still happened. He hit me and I told him he was a jerk. It made me cry. Jared was incredibly busy with projects in school, so from morning to night I was with that volatile, cranky baby.
Normally when I start to get tired, I let my parents babysit for a while. This was my plan last Friday, but when I buckled him into the car? He screamed. I pulled out into traffic? Still screaming. I offered him toys? Screamed. After 15 minutes of screaming, I just couldn't take it anymore and I turned around and went home. I don't think I would've made it the full 45 minutes to my parents' house without completely flipping on him.
I dropped him in the bath (a crowd pleaser here) and waited for 7 o clock to come around so I could put him into bed. I put him down early - at six - and sat down just completely feeling like a failure. Jared was at school without his phone. There was no food, since I couldn't grocery shop with him. There was no laundry, since I didn't get it done. The house was generally a big mess.
I called my (almost) mother-in-law and cried about my baby being a jerk.
Finally Jared came home and we ordered in pizza. Since it was a weekend, I thought I'd be able to drop him off at my parents' the next morning, but then... Bam! Snowstorm. 7 inches of snow. We were stuck with cranky pants face for the weekend.
His attitude improved on Saturday and Sunday, and by the time my parents came and picked him up on Monday I would've rated him at a 2 on the scale between "Grumpy" and "I'm ready to start strangling kittens with my bare hands."
He even slept through the night last night, so maybe, just maybe, he's all done with this grumpy sicky phase.
Tonight I got home from my parents' and put Oliver to bed. He went down without any fight. Then I turned on music and had my own personal dance off. It was kind of fun, and I feel better.
(And, by the way, I am a terrible dancer.)