Sunday blues and beyond

I am always sad to see weekends come to a close. Today is different. Today I am dreadful about what I will face tomorrow, and if not tomorrow, the next day or the next week, etc.

I'm not talking about the amount of work or the commute or missing Emma. I'm talking about ... well, things I probably shouldn't blog about.

I feel like there is a vendetta against me ... by someone I used to look up to, aspire to, really admire in every way. As each day passes, my attitude continues to go south. It isn't fair to others around me, but, I think, mostly it's not fair to me.

With that said, I know I'm not perfect, but I do the best I can. If it's not good enough, I'm ready to move on, and I hope that can happen one way or another.

I used to be a happy person with dreams. I will return, but I have to figure out how to get away from this situation. The sooner the better.

Tonight, before I go to bed, I am trying to psyhe myself up. The problem is, I keep thinking that no matter how I act, there is potential for negative vibes in my direction. How do I avoid this? I do I make it different?

I'm going to try to keep my mouth closed, my head down, do the best I can, and go from there. At the same time, I have to stand up for myself. I am hoping that I am blowing this out of proportion. I know I'm not, though.

I'm anxious to see what will happen next. Something has to change.

Health care and sick days

As a working mom, I have certainly had my share of days when I have fantasized about a job I could do from home, or even my own small business so I could stay home with Emma. Each time my mind starts to wander too far down that fantasy, I remember how wonderful my insurance is and how important that is to our family. I am so fortunate for the benefits I have, and days like yesterday are perfect reminders.

For the 50th I-don’t-remember-how-many-th time since December November October, Emma had a fever when I picked her up from daycare. UGH!!! She also fell asleep before dinner and has only wanted to read books for a few days. I decided on Monday night I would call the doctor at 8 a.m. sharp.

She screamed in the doctor’s office, which is just so not like her. She is usually so calm … poor baby. The verdict came back fairly quickly – strep! Here we go again. She slept a lot yesterday and only in my arms. The same went for last night … she hugged my neck while I sleptish through the night, but she still had a fever at 2:30 a.m. I gave her some more ibuprofen and she eventually fell back to sleep.

After I stayed home with her yesterday, today is Denny’s turn … which brings me to the importance of sick days. I used to take these for granted. Then I got pregnant and used all of sick time for that year. The same held true last year after a minor surgery and a bought of pneumonia. This year, Emma is taking up my sick time. If I didn’t have it, I would be screwed. If I worked from home, how would I have accomplished anything yesterday when Emma wanted me to hold her all day?

Thank goodness for my job, which fills me with great joy and takes care of me and my family when we are sick!

Day off?

Tomorrow I have the day off in celebration of Martin Luther King Jr. In the past, days off were such a treat. For tomorrow? I'm contemplating going into the office to catch up, and dare I say it ... get ahead.

I also need to go grocery shopping and return a few purchases ... errands I didn't have a chance to get to over the weekend.

Vacations and extra days are so different than before I had children. Luckliy, MLK Day is not a holiday Emma's daycare closes to celebrate. Kind of sad, yes, but I'm not going to complain.

Before Emma, I never would have considered going into work on a day off. Now, the thought of a quiet office, where I'm not tempted to turn on the TV for "background" noise, sounds like the best kind of vacation. The thought of knocking out some nagging projects so I'm not stressed out on Tuesday? Golden.

Most notably, I have no desire to stay home tomorrow, but I crave alone time. I used to love being home alone, but something about it now makes me miss my family and reminds me of all the areas in my life that I'm behind in ... that I'll probably be behind in for the next 20 years or so. Maybe forever.

Anyhow, to those who have tomorrow off. Enjoy it. Go serve your community in honor of MLK Jr. I know I should. For this one time, please do as say and not as I do.

On baby sleep

Never wake a sleeping bear baby

In college, my basketball coach used the phrase, “Never wake a sleeping bear” so much that I think I forgot what he meant by it … yeah, yeah, don’t wake a sleeping bear.

Since becoming a mom, I have remembered what it meant … only I have altered the phrase to fit the circumstance.

I hate when Emma doesn’t wake up on her own in the morning. Lately, she has not wanted to go to bed before us. She can’t miss out on anything. She was up until 9:30 p.m. last night. That made for a rough morning, or at least, it could have.

I just never know what kind of baby to expect when I have to rub her little back to wake her from those sweet dreams. This morning was okay … she was actually very cuddly, and she just let me change her diaper and clothes while she drank some milk.

Today was an exception, and who can blame her. I know I hate it when the alarm wakes me up every morning. Mostly, I just hate the fact that I don’t get to watch her longer. She is so adorable when she sleeps … and when she stretches in her sleep?? Her little facial expression just makes me want to freeze time.

Anyone else hate waking up their babies?

Yes, I thought so!

Tired mom working

Last night I had one of those nights I just want to erase … or, at least, forget.

I’m tired. I need some alone time.

Emma destroyed the living room I had picked up less than 24 hours prior … the bulk of those hours since I had cleaned were spent sleeping and working/playing at daycare. She is amazing!

All 25ish pounds of her tore through that room with so much force that no one would have guessed I had taken time to put away her toys or fold two loads of laundry. She pulled every single piece of clothing I had folded off the couch … that’s what I get for not putting them away, right?

This all happened when I was making dinner. Where was her dad/my husband? At the chiropractor … so, really, I couldn’t even be mad at him. It would have made me feel better if I could have blamed him or something. I know that’s awful, but it’s true.

But once he got home, he ate dinner and then went out to the garage to work on his new four-wheeler. Now I could realistically be ticked. Oh well. Emma seemed tired, so I thought we would read a few books and then cuddle/rock until she fell asleep.

Wrong.

She brought me every single book she could find. We read around 20 books, and she was still wide awake. I was ready for bed at 8 p.m. She looked like she could go all night.

When Denny finally came in, I surrendered. I told him I was going to bed.

Dirty dishes from dinner in the sink? Check.
Trashed living room? Check.
A mama who cares? Negative.

What has gotten into me? I feel incredibly exhausted, crampy, on edge. I am trying to remember if this is what it felt like early in my pregnancy with Emma. I’m not officially late, but I should know more by Friday.

Until then, this working mama is going to find some more caffeine and try to purchase some patience to get me through!