Every single person in this household woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.
My first wake up call was at 4:30am, and I forgot to take my medications last night because I crashed EARLY. Didn’t bang one out and didn’t even attempt a blog post. I pretty much slept most of the day yesterday-I was exhausted. But today, my “alarm clock” woke me at 4:30 and she definitely let the whole house know she was starving. I woke up engorged, again, I don’t know why my supply has been freakishly abundant lately, other than the addition of Sunflower Lecithin to help with unclogging ducts…but I ain’t complaining about NOTHING…except the pain.
And even after I fed her, I still had to pump and knocked out 8 ounces total. *Freezer stash!*
And somewhere between 5:30am and 7:10am, I had this weird-ass dream…
I was camping in the wooded mountains somewhere…I was with someone’s kids, but they weren’t my kids. And Keanu Reeves was there, in the suit he wore in John Wick and I looked like the ultimate crunchy mom. I remember haggling with some mountain folks over some home-grown foods; fruits, vegetables, legumes, and some handmade goodies, when I came across Ramps. I made sure I took the bunch and cooked em up with some eggs and ate the whole lot. I remember showering and tucking myself into a sleeping bag. I remember waking up for breakfast with Keanu and sitting there, sipping coffee as he cooked breakfast and while we were talking, I decided to take off my hoodie I slept in and upon doing so, I looked down and my WHOLE chest; breasts, down to my lower stomach, was COVERED in dark, thick, fur-like hair. OMFG. I was a beast! I quickly zipped up my hoodie and ran away… (Flashback to my Tias Jan & Lori saying “Eat your onions, they’ll put the hair on your chest!” Horrifying!)
And that’s when the baby woke me up once again, only to be followed by my mother’s cheery “Good Morning” which scared the shit outta me because I wasn’t expecting anyone to be in my house that early, let alone my bedroom. She’d let herself in, to take Evelyn to church, which meant, Evelyn DID NOT call his grandmother to update her that she lost her opportunity to go to church with her boyfriend because she half-assed her chores yesterday, because she was lazy, procrastinating and excitedly waiting for her friend to arrive. We would’ve cancelled her best friend coming over because of her actions, but her parents were driving up from San Diego to have them visit each other and well damn it, a nearly decade long friendship is hard to cultivate these days–so we didn’t cancel Tristan coming over–plus I really dig this kid, she’s a keeper, funny to boot. Could easily be mistaken for one of my sarcastic, witty, hyper bunch.
Anyway, back to everyone waking up on the wrong side of the bed; the three middle kids were fighting over God-knows-what at 7:30am, Evelyn was arguing with her dad, Derrick and I were at each other’s throats for not agreeing on a severe enough punishment for a lazy teeanger who took advantage of us, and the baby was cranky until breakfast was placed on the table and apparently the smell of Biscuits & Gravy is calming AF to her.
Somewhere between before breakfast and now; I’ve cleaned a house, did 4 loads of never-ending laundry, cleaned the office and fixed a bookshelf, applied 3,000 Box-Tops to sheets for the school, organized bills and updated the calendars for June, drank water, took a shower and showered a baby, nursed a baby and put her to bed and started this. And it’s only donned on me now, that I’m starving and I should eat a lactation brownie (from Milky Mama use the code “MEMORIALDAY” for 20% until May 29, 2017, 11:59PM PT) so I can pump in an hour. BRB!
It’s 2:30pm and I am making up excuses in my head to let the baby sleep longer, because she’s growing, or she must be really tired, or she needs the rest, whatever, in reality, I’m just selfish and want the break because I am exhausted myself. But I know, I just know, the second I go lay down; whether it be on the couch or my bed, the minute I get comfortable and rest, she’ll wake up…and I really don’t want to deal with engorgement again, so I’m thinking, I’ll just brew some coffee and wake her up after I have a cuppa.
I’m frustrated once again. My son is still stealing food and I don’t know what to do. His first intake therapy appointment isn’t until next month, but he’s still binging on sweets all night while we’re in bed. I just bought a new jar of Nutella from Target 4 days ago and it sits empty on the kitchen counter. I made 2 sandwiches from it and it’s now empty. If any of you readers experience or have experienced this, can you help a sister out?
The kid is fed–a lot of food, we keep two stocked fridges in the house and it’s not that he’s hungry, because he’s only after sweets or thing with sugar in them and then he hides them, like I’m not gunna look for them when I want or need them or notice them missing. I just don’t know what to do. Detox the house of ALL sweets? But that’ll punish the other kids who aren’t taking anything. If he was hungry; he’d make a damn sandwich or have carrots and peanut butter, but no, he eats frosting and baking chips, and candy bars and chocolate sauce and ice creams and ugh, anything like that. What do I do? His uncle shared with him his experience of stealing things like sweets from home and other things from stores and how he ended up homeless and then arrested and still, that hasn’t phased Maverick. They even made an agreement; if Maverick doesn’t steal, he’d take him to the store every Saturday and give him $10 to spend on whatever junk he wanted–and that fell through, he didn’t even get to go once.
I’ve been so anxious I’ve started smoking again. I hate this. I hate myself when I smoke. It’s not often and it’s not a lot, but even a cigarette or two or three a day is enough to upset my stomach, give me heartburn and indigestion and headaches…and yet, rather than losing my shit, I go outside and smoke–which is NOWHERE near healthy. I’m at my wits end with these kids because I FEEL like my hands are tied when it comes to punishments. We’ve done grounding. Doesn’t really work because we hardly go anywhere anyways. We tried taking away electronics. They fight over toys. We’ve taken away toys. They fight over shared space on the couch when they’re there to read a book. Derrick gets to escape the screaming when he goes to work, but me, I’m stuck in the middle, breaking up the fights, dolling out the punishments and listening to it all. I am tired. I am stressed. I am overwhelmed.
I don’t know what to do anymore. Except hold on. Like I always do. I’m always holding on. For my life. For my sanity. But if I don’t get a break or some evenness soon, I’m gunna break, I can feel it under my skin. It’s building. I’m trying to hold on, but the wall is crumbling from both sides.