Those Days

The post-cold season colds have been hitting our family pretty hard, culminating in me sleeping on the couch most of last night.

 

Charles and Jamie are both stuffed up and have coughs, even though it is April and I really thought we might get through this year unscathed by viruses.  Alas, no.  And Tony will probably be next, since tax season is now over and he can let all his subconscious or involuntary defenses down.

 

Isn’t that the way it works?  Like, when I was in college, I only seemed to get really sick over winter or spring break.  It’s like my immune system was fighting to get me through finals and then just completely shut down once I had turned in my last paper or test.  Or maybe it’s just that I stopped self-medicating with copious amounts of coffee and alcohol.  Seriously, how did my liver make it through college?

 

Anyhow, yesterday was one of those days.  You know, THOSE DAYS.  Nothing seemed to go my way.  Jamie and Charles both threw fits, and you know what?  I am tired.  I am just tired of the tantrums and the whining and the pleading and the fighting.  No matter that I am firm in my consequences or mean it when I say no (I don’t give in), they still whine and cry and try to get me to change my mind about things like candy or snacks before dinner or toys at preschool (they’re not allowed to take any and they know it) or wearing pants.  It’s exhausting and my patience is running very thin.  Do I know that losing my temper and snapping at them when they start to cry because I won’t read them a story when I’m late for work doesn’t help the situation?  Yes, but I can’t seem to help myself.

 

And whether you want to blame pregnancy or just my natural brain dysfunction, I am very forgetful.  I felt like, yesterday, several of the balls I was juggling crashed to the ground, the largest being that I got halfway through a roadtrip to buy a new car (yes, more on that later) and realized that I forgot the title to the car I was trading in.  By the time I got back to the house, I didn’t have enough time to turn back around, make the deal, and get home in time to pick up the kids.  Oh, right, and then there was dinner that wasn’t planned (you mean you people want to eat again? I just fed you!), or the meat for Taco Tuesday at the office that I was supposed to bring and forgot about until 8:30 yesterday morning, so the kids and I were late as I thawed chicken in the microwave and packed my crockpot and spices to take to the office.  And since the crockpot was working all morning in the same room where I hang my jacket, my jacket now smells like tacos.

 

I used to come home from dinners out at Mongolian food or Mexican food and take a shower because I cannot stand to smell like food.  Worse than smelling like cigarette smoke from the bars, even (you know, back in days of yore when I went to bars and people were still allowed to smoke there).

 

And I gave up sugar yesterday, too.  Not permanently, just for one day.  Turns out I chose the wrong day (“to quit sniffing glue”).  Think I can make it through another day?  Maybe.  Or maybe I’m going to go buy a banana cream pie this afternoon.  You just never know.

 

When the kids both wandered into our bed last night around 2:30 AM, sniffling and coughing, I retreated to the couch.  I didn’t wake with achy hips this morning, so at least one benefit came from the interruption in sleep, I guess.

 

Who has two thumbs and is glad tax season is over?  This girl.  I need someone to take care of me for a little while.