Hello, friends. I’m fucking cold. Continue reading “Blog | It’s Always Something, Isn’t It?”
The Polar Vortex brought the type of cold that instantly freezes your membranes, and makes your lungs sting.
The type of cold that makes your bones and joints ache, even when inside the walls of your own home.
Whole towns shut down for 48 hours, and life stood frozen, when the Polar Vortex came blowing in.
Hello, friends. I have a new job. Continue reading “Blog | My New Job”
I’ll never understand just how single parents do it. They are honestly superheroes. I’m not even a single mother, but I feel like I am more often than not. Since day one, I have changed every poopy diaper (yes, every poopy diaper), and most of the wet ones. I have cooked and fed every meal. I have executed every bath, and read every story. Given every dose of medicine. I have put him down for every nap, and every bed time. I have woken up with him night after night, and rocked him back to sleep. I am the one who wakes up with him every morning. Just last night, he woke up at 1:30, and would not go back to sleep, not matter what I did. We spent hours rocking, and got nowhere. My back was on fire from the crappy, old rocking chair, and I was so exhausted that I was fighting the urge to throw up all over his sweet face. I ended up lying down uncomfortably on the couch in the living room around 3:00 in the morning, and he fell asleep on top of me from 5:00-7:30. All I could do was try to cry silently, like I’ve been doing most nights lately, and try not to wake him up. I got no sleep. None.
His separation anxiety is so extreme this time. It has never been this bad. He screams and screams and screams when I try to put him in his crib, if I even lean over it. He wakes up the second I put him in there, even if I’ve been rocking him for an hour, and he was passed out. He open his eyes, stand up, and scream.
This morning, he refused to nap, just like every day for the last week. This sleep regression/cold/ear infection/teething/separation anxiety has hit him like a ton of bricks, and it is wearing me thin. He has been so fussy during the day, and it has been so hard to get anything done, whether at home or in town, because he is just so clingy and upset. I tried to leave him with his father today, so I could try and get a few moments of sleep, but honestly, I don’t trust him with him. I know he would probably never hurt him, but he has a very short fuse, and a very bad temper, and often raises his voice at him, or cusses at him, and it makes me so angry. Sure, I get angry sometimes, and I’ve raised my voice more often than I’d like to admit in just the last week, but he just gets ridiculous. Nevermind the fact that our son is barely over a year old, and doesn’t even understand what is going on, but what reason does HE have to be upset? He doesn’t DO anything. He has never spent a night, getting zero sleep, rocking in a creaky rocking chair for 3 hours. He got 10 hours of sleep last night! So, I do everything. I sacrifice sleep to make sure his diaper is always clean, or that he gets his meals on time, because Kyle always seems to “forget” or “lose track of time” when I leave him alone with him, even for an hour, so I can sleep, even though he is just sitting on his ass playing a game, or watching TV. I hate it.
I made a comment out loud to my son today, a bit passive aggressively, about how I was too exhausted to make lunch, but that I had to, because no one else would, and Kyle stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him, to play his Gameboy (yep, talking about a grown man here). He gets so upset when I voice my frustration about doing 90% of the work when it comes to our son and our household, yet he throws these tantrums, and shuts himself in the bedroom for hours, leaving me even more alone. Proving my point. I’ve been asking him to get out to the laundromat for the last three days to do some laundry, since we are completely out of clean clothes, and he just keeps forgetting. A few days ago, I asked him if he would help me with the dishes, not DO the dishes, just help me, since I had already done nearly half of them, and our son was clinging to me, whining to be picked up. He just ignored me.
Last night was trash night, one of the only chores he will partake in, if I don’t do it, and he always waits until we are going to bed to do it. I was already under the covers, with the lights off, and with my glasses on the end table, when he came in and asked me to get the kitchen garbage out, and empty Liam’s diaper bin for him, which is something I always seem to end up doing for him. I stood my ground, and told him to just do it. He made sure to make as much noise as possible, sighing and gagging dramatically, cussing at the garbage bin when he dropped it and made noise. Then he came to bed, in a huff, and rolled over angrily. Absolutely unnecessary. And I get bitchy, and I get passive aggressive, and he brings out the worst in me. I don’t mean to, but I just get so upset. He doesn’t fight, we never fight. And that is a problem. He doesn’t talk back, because he doesn’t talk at all. He just shuts off, often storming off to the bedroom. And nothing gets done. I am so tired of it.
I love him, I really do, and I know he loves me and his son, but this is frustrating, and it is destroying me. I am exhausted, my blood pressure is through the roof, and I have been so, so depressed. I am tired of the bullshit excuses, and the immaturity. I want him to grow up, but he just won’t. I want him to listen to me, and understand how hard this has been for me, and what I am going through. The only reason I keep going is because I know that my son needs me, and no one else will take care of him.
But I’ve been having days lately, where the prospect of simply disappearing, leaving everything behind, seems more and more tempting.
I shouldn’t feel like this. I shouldn’t feel this overwhelmed, and this alone, when his father is RIGHT THERE. He doesn’t even work this week. He has been home for days, and will be home for the rest of the week, but… nothing. He won’t help me. It honestly feels like he doesn’t care.
I am at the end of my rope. I just want a break. A nap. Some quiet. I need help, and I have no one. Some days, I feel like it would be better if I actually were alone, then I would only have one toddler to deal with. Only one person’s messes to constantly clean up.
Anyway, thanks for reading, friends. Thank you for letting me vent. I’m off to feed my overly exhausted kiddo a snack, and try to get him to take a nap, even though I know it won’t happen.
Today marks three weeks since Liam’s cold symptoms started. Three weeks of relentless, all-day fussiness, sleepless nights, horrible congestion, and a non-stop runny nose. We have gone through thousands of tissues, several bottles of Infant’s Tylenol, constantly have his humidifier running, and we are now halfway through his Amoxicillin prescription. No signs of improvement, although the ear ache that he had developed seems to be better (probably due to the Amoxicillin). He doesn’t seem to be getting better at all, and while I have felt better for about a week now, I am completely drained from having to take care of this poor, sick kiddo.
I suppose I have had it easy up to this point. Even as a newborn, he never woke up hourly, or even every other hour, to eat. He slept in 4-5 hour spans during the night, and was sleeping entirely through the night by the time he was 4 months old, unless he was going through a developmental leap. I never really needed to rock him, not even when he had his first cold, at just a few months old. That cold was absolutely nothing compared to this beast. I’m starting to worry that his sickness is developing into something more serious, and I am keeping an eye on this cough. I thought he was getting better, until two days ago, when he started waking up every hour (or more frequently), with horrible coughing fits, and needed to be rocked to sleep. He has been so clingy, both day and night. I can’t do anything. I can’t eat, I can’t bathe, I can’t sit at my desk, without picking him up, or he throws a fit. He never did this.
Is it just a toddler thing? I believe he is also teething. So, there’s that.
Ugh. I am exhausted, completely on edge, and miserable. And I’m willing to bet he feels even worse. I try so hard not to get upset with him when it takes 2-3 hours to get him to fall asleep, or when he wakes me up every hour between 1:00 in the morning and 6:00 in the morning, and needs to be rocked back to sleep every time. I know he is sick, and just wants love and comfort, but it is wearing me out so badly. I think I am going to call his doctor tomorrow and tell her about his new cough, and his lack of improvement all around. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.
I just want some relief for the both of us.
Liam is still sick. I haven’t slept in over a week, and I am miserable. I was finally able to bring him to the clinic today, and found out that he has a double ear infection and a post-nasal drip. Fantastic. Got some antibiotics.
Kyle has been applying to a dozen jobs a day since getting fired, but they are all dead ends, and are going nowhere. He has his second job still, but his department’s hours got cut, and we can’t live off of his 12 hours a week.
Family drama. Kyle’s mom was just diagnosed with clinical depression, which she has been struggling with, and has openly talked to us all about. We all love and support her, and she knows that. After getting on medication, Kyle’s grandmother (yep, same one I’ve written about before) took it upon herself to group message myself, and both of Kyle’s sisters, on Facebook, telling us that we need to “behave”, and lecturing us about this disease. We are all grown adults, who have each struggled with our own demons and darkness, and she really struck a nerve with all of us. But that’s just what she does.
So, yeah. That’s my life at the moment. I’m sorry that I have been absent. I have been having a hard time with… everything. How are you all? Did you have a nice Easter? We don’t really celebrate, but we went to Kyle’s mom’s and Liam had an indoor Easter egg hunt (it was raining). Fun times.
Kyle and I were sitting on the couch watching some animated movie, while Liam was dragging all of his stuffed animals over to the couch, and placing them at my feet. Kyle asked me if I had left a faucet on somewhere in the apartment, because we could hear running water, but I hadn’t. After a little while, we got up to double-check, because the sound was still happening, but found nothing.
Liam started crying, and threw one of his bears at me, and I realized that the bear was wet. I looked down, and saw that our entire living room was flooding with water. Kyle and I jumped up and started panicking, looking around frantically, trying to find where the water was coming from. I picked up Liam, who was now screaming from being wet and uncomfortable, and Kyle shouted for me to come to the bathroom. In the bathroom, water was cascading down each of the walls, appearing out of thin air. We ran from the bathroom back to the living room, and suddenly, water was trickling down all of the walls in the apartment, in varying severity.
There was a knock at our door, and I answered it, still carrying a crying toddler. My upstairs neighbor asked if everything was okay, but took one look at our apartment, and stormed in, determined to help us. I went to change Liam, and luckily all of the clothes in his dresser were still dry, because everything in our apartment was soaking wet. when we went back to the living room, my neighbor was on a ladder, trying to figure out where the water was coming from, but he couldn’t find anything either.
I looked out the window, and saw that there was a bad snow storm happening, and that we couldn’t leave. I was soaked and shivering, and Liam was crying, but I opened the front and back doors to that the water could pour out. When I opened the door, the water went out, but started to freeze around my feet and ankles. I brought Liam into our room and shut the door. I sat on the bed, which was soaking wet. I could hear Kyle and the landlord calling people on the phone out in the living room. Liam fell asleep on my shoulder, and we sat in the room until Kyle came in, told me to pack a bag, because we had to leave.
I packed all of the dry clothes that I could find, but couldn’t bring anything else. Back in the living room, they had shut the door to keep the cold out, and the water was up to their knees. We opened the door and left, and our neighbor went up to his apartment, still talking on the phone. The snow had nearly stopped as we ran out to the car, and I started crying as I put Liam on my lap in the front seat. His car seat had been in the living room, and was wet. Kyle called his mom to ask if we could spend the night at her house, but she only yelled at him for calling her while she was at work, and wouldn’t listen. After she hung up, Kyle started the car, and we drove to the McDonald’s a few towns over, which is open 24 hours, and went inside. Liam was still asleep on me, so I put our clothes down on one of the booths to make a bed, and put him down. Kyle went to order us food, and people turned to stare at us.
My pants had ice and frost on them and I brushed them off. An old woman across the restaurant got up and started walking towards me, but stopped, shaking her head, and turned back. I was still crying when Kyle brought our tray over, and I hungrily shoved french fries in my mouth.
Kyle got up to get our drinks, and the old woman started approaching him…
And then I woke up.