Down In the Valley...

Monday morning. The only day my daughter has school this week. And she's in hell. She is now saying, with great frequency, that she hates school. In the same vent she stated that "this school is the best" and yet she still hates it. And I hate forcing her to go. Day after day after day. I feel like a giant, walking conflict every morning. And it sucks. And I find myself saying in my head "I hate my life." Over and over. But is that true? No. It's not true. I love my life. No I don't. But I really COULD. I just feel that my bookshelf is toppled on the floor in a giant heap of a mess. And my daughter's is toppled on top of mine. And hubby's has toppled nearby, and is tangling in with ours. And I'm at a loss. I have undiagnosed ADD and when I see a mess, any kind of mess, I walk around in circles baffled as to where to start with cleaning it up. It is true tangibly, and it is true metaphorically. And so. I basically feel unfinished all the time. And my environment, physical and mental/emotional, is cluttered and unkempt.

And I'm the only one who can do something about it. So where to start?

Medication? Nope, I'm nursing.
Help? Whom?
Delegate more? Trying
Find a better situation for DD? Trying!!!
Find some joy for myself? Trying.
Clean my physical environment to help my mental environment? I try and try and try and get nowhere.

Anything else?

My typical day, represented in one 10 minute interval: Take a sip of coffee and set my coffee cup down. Start to walk somewhere, maybe the bathroom. Get distracted by DD, who says "You HAVE to see this!!" Go over to see whatever it is, for the 200th time that day. Speak some dully enthusiastic words to her, and start to head away. DD starts a conversation which draws me part way back. I inform her I"m headed to the bathroom. She asks if she can go too. Of course. I go, and she asks me to stay with her while she goes. Rolling my eyes, I stand near the bathroom door. She wants me to come in the room. Then DS wants to come in. I'm in the hall. DD wants DS to shut the door. She dawdles, and takes several minutes to get down to business. I am processing the fact that we have no one to care for the cats when we're going to be away, and notice that the cat box is, as usual, in need of attention. I then scold DD for playing in the bathroom sink, something that drives me crazy and she has been told endless times. Then the phone is ringing and it's DH. I'm on the phone, so the volume in the house rises exponentially. I walk away from the bathroom so I can hear, and DD is calling me back in urgent tones. Not an emergency, just her anxiety. DS is pulling the toilet paper out in a stream. DH is sounded extremely put-out by having to wait to talk while I redirect the kids. I rush them out of the bathroom, transferring his annoyance on them by being impatient and irritable. I put the tv on, and listen while my DD loudly protests my selection of shows. I walk away from the tv so I can try to hear DH, and trip over the cat, who wants to be fed. Now where did I put my coffee?

Frazzle Fried

Please, take me at my ugliest, and add more rocks and boulders to my back and shoulders. Why not?

The other day I had a total temper tantrum. I flipped my lid. I had had enough. It was day's end, and I was sitting in bed waiting, desperately waiting, for my son to fall asleep, so I could go downstairs, enjoy a beer, and get away from it all for a while. But my son would not fall asleep. And this is my routine kid! The other one has simply had to adjust to me leaving the room while she is still awake. It was the straw that broke the camel's back, and I flipped out. I yelled at everyone. I cried. I stomped and stormed. And then after we had all spent a spell downstairs and gone back up again, and my son DID fall asleep, and I tried to leave the room, and my daughter yelled, asking me where I was going.... I flipped again. And again we all ended up downstairs, and again I stomped and stormed and cried. Until I just got too tired. And of course realized what had been true all along. That no one. No one was going to bed until I reset myself and got back into the routine. And so I did. And we all went to bed.

Did it help? Did all of my outpouring change anything? No. It just flattened me for the next day. Although I ended up going to sleep fairly early, I felt as if I hadn't slept at all. Though hubby did decide to come home the next day (I didn't ask) in the morning and spend the day helping out. I guess my volcanic eruption may have indicated I was over the edge! And that was nice. But man did I feel bad. I yelled at everyone. I kept everyone up later than necessary. I carried on like a child. Great job, kiddo! All I got out of it was confirmation that I, too, am coming down with the awful cold that both kids have been dealing with.

Oh yeah, so there's that, too. Last weekend was DS's birthday. Sunday. But Thursday he is, out of nowhere, so sick I am worried. He is feverish, lethargic, vomiting, eating nothing, moaning.... the kid is miserable. I make the decision to cancel his birthday party for Saturday. By day's end, it is obvious that DD is getting it too, so I decide to keep her home from school on Friday. So we all hunkered down, and made the best of it. The weekend came, and hubby was here to help out. Sunday arrived, DS's birthday. Also Halloween. Thank goodness DS didn't really seem to notice or care that the party hadn't happened on Saturday. A small blessing. Sunday we celebrated as a family, giving him gifts throughout the day. He seemed very happy. We geared up for Halloween - not something you skip regardless of illness, earthquake, flood..... DD got her costume together. DS didn't want to wear one. We weren't even sure til the last minute that he would be willing to go trick or treating. But in the end, he was enthusiastic. So out we went. And it was Cold. The kids enjoyed themselves, but after a while first one, then the other, headed for home. Too cold! And DD simply wasn't feeling well enough to do more. And that was fine. The kids enjoyed answering the door for the rest of the evening.

The next morning, two ill kids came downstairs with me at 6:30 a.m. I called DD out of school again. Tuesday she went, though really she could have used the week. She was reluctant. Take a child who has anxiety issues, give her a bad cold, and completely throw her off-schedule, and you've got a picture of DD. Not happy. But she made the best of it. Regardless, illness intensifies anxiety in anyone, and for one for whom anxiety is high in a normal situation...anyhow, she's been needy, intense. But overall, pretty good. But constant. So it was Tuesday night .. and that's where I started this blog post.

Bedtime, no sleeping kids, mama flips out, everyone goes to sleep. (not DH, of course, who stays up very late in order to get his time) Wednesday the kids are up early with me, as usual. Both are ill, tired, and in need of some reassurance. DD is home again. Regardless of my needs, however acute, theirs come first. We hunker down again. Hubby calls early, and informs me of his plan to come home. And he brings food. Nice. Very nice. I have not been able to shop in days and days, and the pickins are getting slim. The day moves along. I have informed the family that I've decided to move half of our family bed (one queen mattress) into DD's room this weekend. Everyone seems ok with that. While I realize I will be playing room-tag for months to come, I need to start the process. DD is so acutely attuned to my every move at the moment, I blink my eyes in the room where she's sleeping and she wakes up. It's time to do something different. It'll be a process, I know. Maybe a lloonngg process. And hubby will very likely continue to sleep in the other room, basically adding to our time apart. (He comes home from work, and 20 min. later I go take my "break." We eat dinner together and spend time together with the kids until about 8:15 p.m., when I take them up to bed, and, most often these days, go to bed myself. He stays up late and gets up and out before we're awake.)

This morning, we're up, and while the kids watch tv, I get us ready to take DD to school. Her ability to cope is coming to an end, and she insists, over and over again, that she's not going to school. I make my best attempt to pep-talk her through, and I get her there. Before getting in the car, she tells me that I'm forcing her to go to school, and she hates me. I know she doesn't hate me, but geesh.

So DS and I are home, and I'm too tired today to even buzz around and get things done in the house. While I don't have the obvious symptoms of cold that my kids do (both kids hacking up a lung this morning =( I'm fighting the bug, too. Popping ears, no energy...

To add to this, I've been trying (unsuccessfully so far) to connect with a professional to help us help DD with her anxiety issues. I have called three providers so far, with no luck. I'll just keep trying...

Ok, I'm drained. Enough for now. Off to drink my water with lemon. =) And for the record, I write all of this stuff not to elicit sympathy but to "dump my bookshelf" so that I can rethink and reorganize. It really does help me to get my head around it all. So if you've come this far, thanks for reading.