I'm having a rough week. I just feel.. swamped. I wanted to stay home and clean last weekend but I thought it would be better to get out and do something fun and non house/work related. And that was good and I did have fun, but then I got home and immediately wished I had worked on the house. What kind of crazy is that?
I need to pack everything up to move. Again. I'm still calling appliance delivery guys, utility hook up people, internet providers, moving companies. I've been harassing the 900 people involved in selling/buying our house to make sure they all do their job at this last minute before we close on Monday. We're literally cutting time down to the last hour on our closing and that makes me nervous. So many other things have gone wrong that I feel like we're cursed. I shouldn't have to keep track of everyone and watch their every step, but as past workings have shown... I do have to. It's not my job, but I need to do it anyway.
I've gotten behind in my housekeeping and now I just look at my list of everything that needs to be done and I am freaked out by it. It makes me feel panicky. And I know that just picking a place to start and working piece by piece will get the job done, but it seems impossible. I do what I feel is a huge chunk of work, and then I get up to look at the results... And I don't see any. All I see are the food scraps under Oliver's chair that I missed, the garbage that needs to be emptied, the clock telling me I should have started dinner by now...
The laundry still piles up even while the washer is running. The dishes stack up with every meal. I swear that I just dusted the shelves and the TV, but the next time I look they're blanketed again. All of these things I do over and over, with Oliver following in my wake waiting to undo my work, whether intentionally or accidentally.
On top of this all, Oliver has been acting up. Maybe he's acting up because I am stressed out, maybe he's just deciding to be two. But I can't stand it. After doing well and using the potty 1-2 times a day, he's decided he hates the potty. He will not go. He does not want treats for going on the potty. He is not after special stickers or popsicles or applesauce anymore. He just doesn't care. I can ask him if he feels like he has to go and he says, "No. I don't like it!"
I'm trying to be nonchalant about this, as everybody tells me to do, but it's tough. I feel like our progress is gone. And maybe if it were just this issue, I would be okay. But he's being contrary in everything that he does. He won't let us change his diapers. He's been intentionally dumping things out, throwing around piles of clean laundry I've just folded, hitting me when he doesn't get his way.
I try not to overreact to these things, but more often than not I have been. On top of everything else, I feel like I can't be dealing with Oliver's suddenly developed behavioral problems too. And again, I know I should be calm. I know I should react quietly and patiently.
I just don't know how to do that when I'm feeling so stretched by the rest of my life.