Pity Party

Here is my disclaimer: this is purely a pity party for me and a venting session. If you do not feel like participating, go ahead and stop reading now.

My poor husband and children. I am a beast. I think my patience has officially been tried and is completely over. Everything is setting me off. I am sitting here listening to Natalie scream her lungs out and I can't even bring myself to go in there to console her because I am so annoyed that I would probably just make matters worse. Just the fact that she is screaming makes me mad. I really think that she is in pain which is frustrating because the stupid doctor insists that she has acid reflux. So, he put her on Zantac again and since she has been on it, she projectile vomits at least twice with every feeding whereas before she would only spit up like once a day. She is also a lot more agitated and screams all the time instead of just occassionally. So why is she on the medicine then? Isn't the medicine supposed to make everything better, not worse?! I am so annoyed with the doctor and the situation in general. It also does not help that she is teething right now so she gnaws on everything and squeals out in pain. I feel awful that I can't do anything to help.

Then we are on to Weston. The poor kid's mouth hurts so bad. He is chewing on everything and is so whiny and upset. The past few days, all he does is cry and scream and whine and cry and whine and whine again. He will spontaneously just throw himself on the floor and yelp. Once again, I know he is in pain and I feel so bad that I can't really do much to help him. But, I just can't handle the whining and screaming anymore. By tonight, everything had me so overwhelmed and upset that I was getting so frustrated with him. I had no patience for the outbursts whatsoever. The poor guy just needs love and attention, but unfortunately with three people that need me for everything, it doesn't leave much time. And, to add to all of this, Weston is so freaked out by Roland's rehab equipment that he keeps crying whenever he sees Daddy. Luckily I got a little bit of time with him at bedtime. After one final outburst, I got so mad that I picked him up and took him into his room. I could tell he was sad, so I just sat with him and sang to him and cuddled him for a while. He really appreciated it even though Natalie didn't. She needed to be patient though.

Now onto Roland. My poor husband. He is in so much pain. He was such a trooper and made it through his knee surgery smoothly. But, the recovery I think is harder on me than him. He is trying so hard to be a good patient and not require much of me, but he really is not able to do anything for himself. He keeps watching me run around like a chicken with its head cut off and he keeps apologizing. He is on a strict medicine schedule so I have to make sure that he takes his meds every four hours and he has to have a full stomach with each dosage. Then, he has to put his leg in a slow movement machine with a compression cuff every few hours. Afterwards, we have to hook him up to an ice machine to keep his knee cooled. I really don't mind taking care of him and I enjoy the opportunity to serve him, but I am just so tired. I go from Weston to Natalie to Roland to Natalie to Weston to Roland to Weston ... One kid is crying while I am helping the other, then I get done with one and it is time to make a snack and give meds, etc. I think it really tops it off when the percocet makes him loopy. It is bad enough that I have three people that need my constant care and attention but then when I even lose competent conversation, I go nuts.

On to the house. With running around between the three of them, needless to say, my house is a disaster! Weston is pure destruction. He runs around and leaves a clear path of destruction everywhere he goes. I don't have time to clean the kitchen in between meals so everything is piled up and disgusting. Roland's rehab equipment is all over the front room. It is ridiculous. We look like absolute slobs. With every last amount of energy I have left after the kids go down, I try to frantically clean as best I can, but it really does no good.

Sunday. Oh gosh. Today I had to take the kids to church all by myself. Preparation began at 7:30am. Baths for both kids. Shower for me. Breakfast. Getting dressed. Packing the diaper and church bag. Getting Roland taken care of and food ready for while we are gone. Packing the car. Putting the kids in the car. Surprisingly, I was still five minutes early. Unfortunately, that was still technically late because I had to play the organ. I would have been earlier, but of course I had to be behind the person that was going between 25 and 30 mph in a 45mph zone. That did not help my patience level. I get to church and grab my church bag and sling it over my shoulder. I take Weston in one arm and Natalie in her car seat in the other. I must have looked hilarious. It is also already like 110 degrees outside so by the time I get inside, I have sweat dripping down my face and I am huffing and puffing like I just ran a marathon. I put Natalie down next to the organ and Weston climbs up on the bench with me. He starts touching all of the buttons, climbing up and down the steps, etc. How is this going to work? Then a very kind lady comes and takes Weston and has him sit with them. I fumble through the songs as I am still all keyed up. Weston and I fight through most of sacrament meeting as he just wants to squeal at the top of his lungs and squirm everywhere. Luckily he goes nicely into nursery and Natalie and I go off to feed her. After her feed, I am able to enjoy some lessons before I run off to relief society to play piano again. Towards the end, Natalie has had it and is ready for sleep. Finally it is time to go and I huff and puff back to the car. I get home and hurry and throw Natalie in the crib, get Weston some lunch (listening to him squeal and holler the whole time), make lunch for Roland, get Roland set up with his machine, feed him meds, get Weston cleaned up from lunch, throw Weston in bed, help Roland shower for the first time since surgery (yay!), feed Natalie because she wakes up, try to convince Natalie to go back to bed, cook dinner,.... By the end of the day I have no patience left and am utterly exhausted. Hence, the beginning of this blog.

If I make it through these next weeks while Roland is an invalid with even a slight amount of sanity left, it will be a true miracle.