I was alone with the girls for the first time since 30 October. Today was fantastic –more or less—until I got to the end. I had an appointment this morning to check in with the dietician. While we were waiting, I had to change her and her outfit, complete blowout. Brielle weighs 14 pounds, 2 ounces and is 24 inches long. She and Aviana are healthy as can be. The dietician chastised me on the amount of soda that I drink, but commended me on about everything else. (That was before I ate 5 sugar cookies at naptime). Brielle is doing well, Aviana is being her busy inquisitive self, all is well with the world.
As a result, I decide to go ahead and do the errands my husband has requested. I stop by the appliance store to get cleaner for our new stove. I stop by Grandma’s store, so she can show off the girls to her co-workers. I stop at the fabric store to pick up some clearance black material for when we do “photo studio”, and some heavy material to block off the front stairway to conserve energy, which was more complicated and took much longer than I ever would have anticipated. I nurse Brielle in the car in the parking lot, while Aviana eats a granola bar.
By now it is lunchtime, but I dressed in my workout clothes, planning on going to the gym, so I plunge ahead. At the gym’s Kid’s Club, Aviana is excited to watch part of a Barney video, but her sister on the other hand is not so easily contented. I head up to the cardio room, hoping for the best. After only 20 minutes, the child care worker comes to tell me that Brielle has been screaming for 10 minutes. As soon as I get halfway downstairs, I can hear her through the closed door. I get her settled down and we head for home. She is absolutely inconsolable and screams all the way there, which since we live on a farm, is about 20 minutes.
I get both girls in by myself, as well as the soiled clothes, bags and assorted purchases. I get Brielle calmed down simultaneously getting Aviana some lunch. I’m feeling a little stressed by now, but feel in control. I do feel a bit resentful towards my husband who is not doing what I want hum to (although, to be fair, I didn’t tell him what it was I wanted)
Kevin and I now try to see how we would install the material in the stairway and realize I bought way too much because we each had a different idea in our head, but thought the other one’s idea was the same as our own. It wasdn’t cheap either, so I’m irritated about that. He goes back to work.
I got Aviana down for her nap and thought Brielle would stay asleep in her swing so I could write some notes and make some cards, essentially, have some down time. I thought wrong. I wrote some letters while holding/ feeding Brielle, which is naturally a challenge; I got online instead. I messed around, all the while hoping she would cash out, so I could have some time to myself. False hope.
Aviana woke up cranky. And when I say cranky, I mean cranky. She would have none of any of my suggestions, flailing about and screaming in protestation of life in general. I feel like that some days. We went up to my studio to cut and glue for a while. I thought she was sufficiently in control of herself to once again attempt to go down and make dinner. Once again, I was wrong.
I’m going to such great detail today because all of this is a huge accomplishment for me. I never got grouchy or short tempered, or burst into tears, or felt completely overwhelmed or hateful, or any of the ways I’ve been feeling almost constantly since Brielle was born. I felt like I was doing splendidly in general, but I was getting worn out so I called for back up. That didn’t work out like I thought it should. So dinner was cold and Miss A was hungry and still irritable, and I was hungry and getting irritable. We ate and Kevin got the kitchen cleaned up and A ready for bed, while I nursed the baby.
Then he got out the guitar and we did a little sing along and took some pictures.
All of a sudden, I notice that we lost track of time, and tell Kevin it’s 7:40. We have about our fourth or fifth misunderstanding of the day. By this time I am ultra sensitive and not doing well giving Kevin the benefit of the doubt.
I want to show him this cool video I have been trying to download for an hour, and after telling him the background, push ‘play’. I had been really moved by the story and the video, and wanted him to feel the same sense of wonder. When he doesn’t respond the way I wanted him to, I get upset, tearful, say something snart mouthed and run upstairs. I’m good at storming out of rooms. Years of practice.
An hour or so later, I go down to try and make amends, which turns into another argument. Or is it a continuation of the same one? I’m losing track. He makes a remark that feels like a punch to the solar plexus.
I lost it. All I can hear is that my husband thinks I’m a pathetic failure, even though I thought, overall, I had been doing pretty well.
I went on a three hour crying jag. He slept on the couch but I didn’t know it, and thought he left, so I couldn’t sleep. Aviana woke up at like, one, and I brought her into bed with me. Which, if you’ve never “slept” with a two year old, is not so much about sleep as it is trying to make room for yourself next to a hummingbird the size of a bulldog.
I got up at five with a headache, took some Ibprofen, went to the restroom, and as I’m sitting there, Kevin flips on the light. Beautiful. Embarrassment and shock all rolled into one.
Even though the first 12 hours of the day were overall great, and I was doing great, all I can still think about is the horrible comments and awful feelings. I hate it.
How do I stop replaying it in my head?