Hello, friends. I just thought I’d throw a quick update out there, for anyone interested in how kiddo and I have been doing lately, since we both got slammed with health issues around the same time. Continue reading More Health Updates
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.
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.
Hey guys, I’m still alive, I promise. Life has just been pretty crazy the last week and a half.
Kyle lost his job. So there’s that.
All 3 of us have some horrible plague that we most likely picked up from a sick little girl at the mall play area (who brings their sick child to an indoor play area?!). So I haven’t been eating or sleeping at all, and my kid is… just… please, help me.
I’ve lost 4.5 pounds in 3 days. Sickness.
That’s it. Back to the couch.
Hello, friends! Today, I have a story to tell you. The story of Liam’s first haircut. My son will be 14 months old in 10 days, and up until just a few days ago, he had never had a haircut. As much as I loved his silly, soft baby hair, it was time. I would usually sweep his bangs off to the side, and that kept them from getting into his eyes, but the back… the back was just ridiculous. Half the time, his hair would swoosh out to the sides, creating adorable wings, which I loved. But sometimes… it was a mullet. An awful, awful mullet. My kid is cute as heck, but even he couldn’t pull that look off.
An example of his bangs and wings, pre-haircut. So cute.
I don’t have access to a car, or to money, so I figured I would just cut his hair on my own, without any prior experience in cutting hair, other than my own. Yeah, great idea, Jan. I looked up a resounding total of ONE video on YouTube about cutting a toddler’s hair, and figured that was enough. It actually was. Kind of.
I sat Liam down on the kitchen floor, and armed him with a snack, a cup of water, and a wide away of toys and other distractions, and was actually amazed at how still and content he stayed for almost the full duration of the haircut. In fact, right up until we were almost finished, the haircut was coming along nicely, and I was feeling really proud of myself.
And then, he loved.
I ended up taking a chunk out of his bangs, and was forced to cut it much shorter than I wanted… and it didn’t look good. It didn’t look awful, but I was still so sad. He also turned his head while I was trimming around his ears, and luckily, all I cut was his hair. So one side of his head looks good, the other… well, it is behind his ear, so it’s not that noticeable.
Ugh. He didn’t care, of course. I don’t even think he’s noticed the difference. Several people, including his daddy, have commented on how cute and grown up his haircut makes him look. I definitely agree, he does look adorable, and like a real, little boy.
Ahhh, the feels, you guys!
Here are the final results of our adventure into the world of baby haircuts. I will admit that it really isn’t that awful, especially for a first-time haircut on a wiggly 13 month old. I’m still kind of proud.
He doesn’t seem to mind the short bangs! It is no salon cut, but he is just a baby, right? The haircut serves it’s purpose, and his hair no longer pokes him in the eyes, and the days of the mullet are behind us. For now. I might be too traumatized to attempt this again, unless it involves an electric razor.
So, to my sweet, little boy… I apologize. You will look a little goofy for a few weeks until your bangs grow back in, but you are still undeniably adorable, and I hope you forgive me for doing this to you.
Thanks for reading, friends! How many of you cut your little ones’ hair? Did you ever hair a haircut fail?
[Today is also my 3 year anniversary! I’m still sick, and Kyle is working all day and all evening, and it is raining… so, happy anniversary to me!]