Parenthood -- like life -- has seasons. Some seasons are good; some seasons are bad; some are neither. The season of parenthood that I am currently chest deep in is the really shitty one. The one where you just want to scream at the top of your lungs, "I quit!" and storm out with a suitcase and no cell phone. The kind where it's a struggle not to lock yourself in the bathroom and bathe in your own tears (this isn't possible, because who the eff has time to BATHE???). There is not enough chocolate in North America for this season, yo. Not nearly enough.
So here's my shit:
Carter has regressed in potty training. He was trained, people. Fully trained. No accidents in public, at the park, during naps, etc. Nothing has changed in our lives that would explain a setback. He is all over the map - yesterday he went to the bathroom, on his on (without me reminding him or asking him to sit on the potty) a number of times and then, out of the blue, he peed his pants outside). Some days he will be accident-free all day and other days have 5 accidents. Rewards seem to make no difference (either immediate or long-term, with stickers, etc.). Today, he went to the babysitter's. I try to take him once in a while to play with the boys there. She has all boys and I know it's good for him to socialize without me hanging around. He was so excited to go this morning. I told him that if he made one accident in his pants, Judy was supposed to call me and he would be coming home. I was barely home for an hour before she called. We will try that tactic again tomorrow, but at the moment, he doesn't seem to be too upset about being home. Combine this with Grayson's sleep issues and his new 5am wake up time, and I spend a large portion of the day screaming the F word in my head.
Grayson is also at that lovely age where he cannot be unsupervised on his own for ANY time at all. He stands up on everything and, subsequently, falls over and will bang his head/face on our hard bamboo floor. Everything goes in his mouth. Everything. So I have ZERO free time when he is awake because I literally have to be right next to him. This is just that season in his life and, though it is exhausting, because you can kiss whatever free time you had beforehand goodbye and your house looks even worse than it did before (who knew this was possible?!), it isn't stressful. It is just a shit ton of work and it sucks, a little, to be honest, but he's a healthy, growing baby, so it's a good kind of pain in the ass (good thing Jeff's not reading this, because he would add some unsolicited commentary there). However, when I have to throw him in his exersaucer to go deal with a 3.5 year old who crapped his pants for the third time in a day, I start to feel my jaw clench in frustration.
It's just a lot right now. A lot of work. A lot of no time off. A lot of no time for my marriage. A lot of "what did we do wrong to cause a potty regression?" "what did we do wrong to end up with an 8 1/2 month old who still sleeps like shit??". I feel tired, frustrated, exhausted, and at the end of my rope a lot lately. Like, a LOT. I know that being tired makes everything seem worse than it is though and that if I were coming at every day with more sleep under my belt, the challenges wouldn't look so Mount Rushmore-ish.
I tell myself two things to pull me back to sanity: First, this is a hard phase that will pass. Carter won't struggle with this forever. We will figure it out. He will figure it out. Grayson won't sleep like ass for forever. Grayson will continue to grow and develop to the point where I can be more than half a foot away from him while he plays. So, this too shall pass. Like the good moments that you try to stretch out, this time will fade away to introduce a different season. A season where I'm not needed so much and feel sad about it. That's for another blog though.
The other thing that I tell myself is that although, yes, some of this sucks and, yes, I'm allowed to vent frustrations about it, there are many parents of sick children - really sick children - or who have lost their children, who would give anything to be in my place. I have normal, healthy kids. Lots of kids deal with potty regressions (especially for #2), and lots of moms I have talked to aren't anywhere close to sleeping through the night either with their babies. None of that makes my "struggle" easier, but it does put it in perspective. Things aren't that bad. Things could be worse.
So there are my ramblings for the day. And now, it's time to put Carter down for a nap. Grayson is sleeping and has been for nearly an hour. This means that he will likely wake up as soon as I put Carter down. The hopeful part of me says, "lay down and sleep and maybe Grayson will give you an hour," and the cynical part of me laughs at that thought. I could also use a shower. See how neither of those options involved sitting on the couch to watch last night's episode of The Bachelorette?? Decisions, decisions.
The good news is that I think I am going to Magic Mike XXL tonight. Take it off, Channing. Take it off.
