My morning:
After two days of using the potty and wearing Big Girl Panties, I was feeling a bit smug about this parenting thing... R is using the potty and H is sleeping all night (mostly) and everyone (except for me) is healthy and well. But this morning I was having an awful time getting H down for his morning nap, and I finally gave up and decided to just let him fuss for a bit before going back to pat him back to sleep (he seems to be lulled by a firm pat on the bottom while he sings himself to sleep). R is pacing up and down the hall and when she sees me she runs toward the living room and says "I need to peepee on the potteeeeee!" So I grab her hand and we make for the bathroom. There I find Big Girl Panties loaded with poo and in the process of getting her onto the potty (she still had to pee) it got on my hands, her bottom, legs and feet, the potty seat and the floor. H is still crying. Finally I get her cleaned up, calmly reassuring her that accidents happen and it's ok, listen to your body, etc. Then I let her know that I need to go help H go to sleep and I'll be back soon. After 5 or 10 minutes, just as he's nodding off, she comes into his room and starts trying to get my attention... I point to the door and whisper "leave". She then screams that she doesn't want to leave and who knows what else. H pops up and starts looking around (R! Fun!) and I take her for time out. Seeing his favorite person and then seeing me march her out is really upsetting though, so now he's screaming again and she's screaming that she needs me. I realize that there is no one I can call who can possibly make this better, or say anything to make me feel better. No one can fix this and fix the even bigger problem, which has more to do with being utterly broke and wondering how we're going to get by this month, this week, this year. This hopeless feeling that's right under my skin and that's probably the cause of all the inexplicable anguish in the house this morning. These kids are little sponges... especially R... she KNOWS when something is going on.
So I end up going back to talk to R, letting her know that I love her, but she has woken H up and that's not ok. Then I put on a cartoon and go back to pat him. No luck... he's inconsolable. I let him cry it out and feel pretty miserable. I call my mom. He naps for 20 minutes. We all bundle up and go outside. Rosemary eats dirty ice that she found in her sandbox (it was cold last night). H barfs on his sweatshirt while sitting in his pack and play outside. I have house shoes on and decide to not even bother saving half of my potted plants from the coming cold snap later this week.
Brian come home and we talk. And talk. And fold clothes and eat and get kids down for naps. Because that's what you do... you just keep taking care of each other and talking and hugging and getting angry and talking again.
