First, I awoke to Cecilia's singy-songy-song (as usual)...."moooooooomy, I'm awaaaaaaaaaaaaaake!". Why she doesn't just exit her bedroom I will never know. And when I went in there to release her, approximately 2.3 nanoseconds after hearing her, she had already peed on the floor. And do you know what is particularly frustrating about that fact, besides the obvious requirement that someone (probably me) clean pee out of the carpet? If you guessed "she has a little frog potty right there next to her bed and she just peed right on the floor next to it", you'd be right. Don't you just love being right?!?!?
So we move from the bedroom to the kitchen where she demands breakfast. Which is fine, 'cause like, people gotta eat and stuff. Even people who pee their pants after they've already been potty trained for two months. So I make the breakfast and feed the boy and start checking the email when I get a call.
Yes, that was the call you heard about yesterday, with the dance class and the hollering and the hand sewing at the last minute. Whew! Done! They made it.
But then the phone rang again and it was this
Ooooh, I was mad. Frustrated. Tired.
And suddenly the 5 year old and the 2 year old decide that they're ready for their morning snack and I'm like "fine!" so I give them cold cereal (which they had asked for), and the 2 year old, of the peeing on the floor, whacks the bowl with her elbow, sending already-soggy Honey Bunches of Oats (or whatever it was) all over the dining room table and floor.
Also, whose bright freaking idea was it to ever, ever, ever put carpet in a DINING ROOM??? Someone evil and/or foolish, I tell ya what.
And that's when it happened.
I threw a complete fit.
I stomped and I cried and I acted like a total fool and if my kitchen floor weren't so dirty, I would have laid upon it and rolled back and forth and banged my heels against the said floor in my frustration.
To which the boy responded "I just can't stop laughing! You're so funny, mommy!"
Then the big girls got home and we tried to get to the schoolin' and the cleanin' between bouts of someone dripping watermelon juice all over the same evil carpet from above and we survived and we got ready for the very first Wednesday night CCD session at church.
During which, the parent meeting WITH OUR PASTOR, Cecilia decided to pee directly onto the floor of the gym. And I thought I was going to die.
Do you know that there is at least one woman at our parish who now thinks I am the meanestest mother who ever lived on the face of the Earth? Because after taking the child to the bathroom, I told her that she was going to have to clean up her own mess. We got paper towels, some wet and some dry, and we went and cleaned up the pee. And the concerned lady came running over, leaving the meeting with the pastor, and said in her best stage whisper "I WANT TO HELP HER!" and made a sweet face at the child while simultaneously glaring at me. She's talented.
But I shooed her away and insisted that any child who was FULLY potty-trained for several weeks and who can remove snacks from the fridge and quote Martha Speaks, can also use a paper-towel to sop up her own "accident".
Of course now, after reading that, I do feel like I am in fact the meanestest mother who has ever lived on the face of the Earth, but I am seriously at a loss. I do. Not. Know what to do with her! So much pee, so little sleep, so much me freaking out. But really, it's not all that bad. What happened yesterday was not that big of a deal in terms of motherhood. I'm just completely stressed out.
You know what I'm stressed out about? What's contributing to my obnoxiously short fuse? This ongoing job situation. See, Tommy's been working all summer for a parish friend who owns a landscaping company, which was definitely a God-send as he searched for a permanent job. But the season will be over soon and the interviews keep happening but the actual job offers keep not coming. Which means no extra pennies to put into savings or to pay off our student loans or to buy a second little beater vehicle for Tommy to take to work so I can have access to the van during the week so I can do things like take care of birth certificate flubs and haul my little baby to be seen by a chiropractor (or some other medical professional) for her tiny baby torticollis, if that's even what she has.
And I keep thinking "By X date, surely things will have worked themselves out and we can finally start thinking about repairing the holes in the floor of the laundry room". Then X date comes and goes and still nothing. And I'm really starting to feel discouraged, because my dear Lord, this job hunt has been going on for over a year! Over a year.
And I have work that I'm able to do from home to help supplement the income, but right now it's work that I HAVE to do in order for us to make all this keep running and that's a lot of pressure for someone who'd like the chance to "just" be a mom. So I can't say "Hey, I want to take two weeks and use that time to really focus on my kids and my house. Whenever and however they need me, I'll be ready and willing." Because I have to work because there's no job offer. Or "I will exercise every day" because when I have that time I think "Hey, I probably ought to reply to those emails..."
I'm so thankful we both have some kind of work we can do, but I'm also frustrated. I don't know how much longer I can pretend to even almost keep all this together. Clearly the fact that I threw an actual fit in front of my youngest children is a sign that the answer is "not much longer".
So will you pray for my hubby and his job situation? A full-time permanent position with vacation time, sick time and medical benefits? There are two jobs "in the pipes" right now that he's not heard back about, but we're starting to think those should be moved out of the 'maybe' column and into the 'no' column at this point too, and that's just making us all sad.