You know what’s funny, Internetz? What’s funny is that, before I had kids, I used to complain that I was busy. Ha! Me, busy!! I know, right? Sure, I’d be doing two or three shows at a time, working 50-60 hours a week, and whatever else I could manage to toss in there, but.. STILL! I had NO IDEA what busy was!
Today is one of those days that seems to have gone on forever. Bryan and I both have the crud; I ventured out into the world today to buy $35 worth of drugs to try and knock this monster of a cold out. I say it’s a cold.. hell, it could be the flu. We’re both on-again-off-again feverish.
The baby was up for the day at 4:30 a.m. So was his mom. Thus began the day that never ended.
Also, as I mentioned, The Boy is grounded. From, like, everything. This stems from a boiling point we’ve been battling .. well, I take it back. It’s a point I’ve been FRETTING about for years, but I’ll be damned if anyone in a position of power does anything about it. Long story short, he punched a dog. The prologue: this is not the most violent thing he’s done in the past month. The epilogue: Sarah is becoming increasingly bitchy about someone doing something proactive before it spirals out of control.
We’re having extreme issues with this. To put it simply, he is not that child when he’s over here. He is not even rough over here, much less violent. He doesn’t throw temper tantrums. He doesn’t sass us. He would never, EVER lay a hand to either of us (or Binja). I wonder if this is: A) a result of our fabulous parenting, B) a simple math statistic of the ratio of time he’s actually over here, or C) his knowledge that I would LAY HIS ASS OUT if he ever did. As much as I’d like to believe it’s due in large part to A, I’m realistic enough to realize that it’s a combination of B and C.
So how do you go about telling your spouse and some other woman that something needs to be done about their child’s violent outbursts? I’ve found that there is no good way. And I know it’s oh-so-easy to sit on the other side of the fence and spout knowledge, but there are so many eggshells to tiptoe on.
BUT, back to his being grounded. Let’s put an eight year old boy, a teething 11-month old, and two sick adults in one house. Add rain and two dogs. And a cat who is needier than any of the above. Now take away the Wii, the TV, and anything construed as “fun”.
I’m going fucking nuts over here.
And that’s not to say that anyone is being horrible. To the contrary, The Boy has been great about entertaining the grumpy baby, playing with him for long stints at a time in another room. The baby has been great about napping. The dogs have been fairly lethargic. And Bryan and I are dosed up to the max.
But all I want to do is curl up into a ball with some cider and a gossip magazine, and sleep like I did before I had kids.