Despite the fact that I would appear to be in a state of constant flux with no real routine for getting anything done, I'm apparently not as happy go lucky as one would think.
My schedule, however, is my own and dictated only by my internal clock, not anyone else's schedule or the timepieces to which we frequently refer to determine what we need to be doing because this week I've been all to pieces. Welcome to the reality of my daughter's night shift.
Oh, I'm confident I will adjust, but Wednesday afternoon I was reduced to throwing plates. Yes, actual plates. Not at E1 as she later told her mother, but at the floor. I couldn't cope with anything else and coming in from fetching the mail out of my car to find that she'd poured a cup of milk out into plates, her sister's lap and the floor just pushed me right on over into crazy town. After I cleaned up the combined mess that she and I had made, I did apologize, but the memory of my bad behavior shamed me.
Then again, I'm guessing I can trace that back to my mother, who I can remember frequently opening and slamming cabinet doors when she was upset. Sorry, mom.
One of the struggles of the week has been its irregularity, although it will eventually fall into a pattern.
Monday morning I was up at 5 a.m. for girls to arrive. They went back to sleep. I drank coffee and watched them. I took E1 to school. Mommy came and got them when she woke up and we had lunch together before she left.
Tuesday they didn't come at all, but due to a temporary carseat shortage -- because three girls ride in three cars at various times, we need 9, not 7 -- I had to run my safety seats to their house so they could go to the dentist. I came home and shaved a dog. It was raining and not a great day for anything.
Wednesday up at 5 a.m. again. Repeat of early Monday. Then we all loaded up and went to Winston for E1's therapy. Little sisters and I went window shopping, eventually spending $2 at Target on a pair of safety scissors because we needed a second pair and E2 "loved" them. I need new patio furniture cushions, deep seat, at a reasonable price for my grandmother's wrought iron furniture. The weather and old cat have ruined the cushions I've had for several years. We didn't find any. By the time we got home, by way of Krispy Kreme, the girls were sugared up (I think I'll skip that step in two weeks) and didn't want lunch. We played outside until nearly 2 p.m. when they still didn't want lunch but I made them some anyway, and the milk incident occurred. E2 woke from her nap with an upset stomach. Not a good day, all things considered.
Thursday, once again no morning wakeup, although my husband who is also trying to adjust did kindly set me an alarm. I turned it off and went back to sleep in our chilly house (it was 80 Monday and maybe 30 Wednesday and Thursday, which didn't help). Up at my regular 6:30 a.m. and finally able to do my typical morning routine (blogging, networking, checking on friends I don't really see but care about). E1 had kindergarten evaluation, so Mom took off early to take her, otherwise I would have needed the alarm. Not a day off, not our typical day from before, and not quite what our normal days will be now either.
Today it's another 5 a.m. wake-up and Daddy, who brings the girls still in PJs and wrapped in blankets, will be picking them up as well. To add to the fun, E3 has thrown up on herself on the way over and repeats the performance an hour later. E2 now has diarrhea as the followup to her upset stomach of Wednesday and soils her pajamas. My husband has been up all night with a combination of the two. I'd like to pack up E1 and leave them to fend for themselves, but that's not an option -- besides its Easter weekend and my boarding kennel will be filling up for the weekend today.
Next week, it will be the exact opposite of this week -- I think -- and hopefully free of whatever stomach ailment everyone has, although we almost want to write it off to sinus drainage, in the kids at lest. In another week, perhaps, we'll be beginning to adjust to this back and forth and finding some balance in the on and off days, the early mornings and early afternoons.
In the meantime I've realized that my balance is much more delicate than it seems. While one day of disruption may not throw me, the total loss of what was familiar and comfortable and the tools I've grappled with to cope through a really hard four months, has made me feel fragile and on edge again. Most evenings I feel that a breakdown is lurking nearby, even if I manage to avoid it. I haven't even felt like watching television and I struggle to unwind. Apparently, I have a OCD person inside who plays by a different set of rules. Trying to figure out what makes her happy has made for a difficult week. Adding all that disruption onto what should have been Ethan's birthday, I suppose that I should not really be surprised that I've been a borderline wreck.
However, it would appear that we have all survived it. Assuming, of course, that nothing changes (I'm writing a day ahead because heaven knows I won't have time Friday). Other than the two plates, that is.
Next week, I'm sure it will be better -- not just fewer long days, but free of the emotional baggage this week had to tote as well. All the same, I'm truly thankful to God that it's Friday.
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