I just got done crying while sitting in the middle of my living room floor, trying to pick up Little Magoo’s toys…and it is only about 5:30pm. Why you ask?
I got in late last night after going out…around 10pm…not too late – but then of course the hubby and I chatted for a bit and we didn’t get to sleep until 10:30pm. I was fine with it though, I knew I wouldn’t be up until 6am. Wrong.
Last night was hot. It is Autumn here in New England, but I sweated my ass of last night, because it had to have been at least 80 something in our room. I contemplated getting up and turning on the a/c in our bedroom…but that required getting up and I knew I would have to get up to pee at some point. Assumption correct. Not only did I get up once to pee, but twice. The second time around 3-3:30am. Baby Magoo was having a field day pushing on my bladder. I did a lot of tossing and turning.
Then around 4:30-5am I hear a clang, clang, clang, rattle, clang coming down the side street next to our house. I sounded like some poor soul had the back end of their car falling off. It died down and I started to drift back to sleep. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Holy Crap!! Someone is trying to break down our front door!!!! Steal our cars! Steal our grill off our deck! Kidnap our child! I sat upright in bed. Mr. Magoo did too. I raced to the window and could see a car parked on the side street. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! What the hell was the guy doing? He’ll wake Little Magoo!!
I raced downstairs to investigate and turned the lights on, even the outside ones. Then I could see it. The guy had something in his hand in which he was attempting to correct the attachment of his little fishing boat trailer…hence the clanging I heard earlier. Awesome. He continued for a bit and then finally got back in his car and drove off taking his God-forsaken trailer with him. I went back upstairs to bed. “He’s awake.” Great. The little toddler boy had awoken…probably from me going up and down our creaky wooden stairs. Fantastic. Me with no sleep and a toddler not fully rested from the day before, because he sucks at his afternoon nap.
The morning was pretty good. Little Magoo was tired, but went down for his morning nap with no problem…and slept maybe a little over an hour. Then he started getting into things he shouldn’t. Trying to pull cords and throw things. Time outs happened. Lunch not so good – food on the floor and antics. I cringed here and there as Baby Magoo kicked, punched and buried his head into my cervix. The worst pain ever.
Then came Little Magoo’s afternoon nap. Mr. Magoo was home for lunch and help me put him down. I decided to take a nap too. Wrong. Did Little Magoo ever nap? Nope, not at all. Did I get to nap? Nope. I waited and waited to see if he would fall asleep and then came a HUGE BANG on the side of the house. What the heck was that????!!! I looked out the window and saw nothing. Mr. looked too. Maybe a bird or a branch or something. He went to check on Little Magoo. Nap #2: FAIL.
Now I had to contend with an even more cranky toddler the rest of the day. I played with him a bit, read to him…all while Baby Magoo decided to start up his antics again with my cervix. I decided a bath was in order. Into the tub Little Magoo went. He was contained and content and splashed away for a while, then I got him out and got him a snack and it was time to watch his afternoon show of Curious George. He sat and watched the whole thing very nicely.
I gave him an early dinner, because by 4:30pm he was rubbing his eyes. Poor kid. Not to mention I was exhusted (am exhausted) and just needed to be done with the day. He ate dinner and thankfully did not throw anything on the floor.
Up the stairs I carried him to bed. Then came the diaper change. Lord help me. I need help in this department.
It was a fight, him trying to roll of the changing table…me trying to pin him down and distract him. I’d change him standing up, but that is even more of a nightmare. Physically, it kills me to even pick him up now. The only way for me to old him is over my ever growing belly and it hurts. It hurts my belly, it hurts my back, it hurts. But the floor is not an option for changing…he’d be all over, which would be even more exhausting.
I finally get his diaper off and wipe him down. Then he pees on me. Out of all the days for that to happen, it had to be today. Perfect ending, because he has not done that in quite some time. I get him cleaned up again, pin him down to brush his teeth as he cries. Put him in his crib so I can rinse his tooth brush, go to pick him up again and he doesn’t want to come to me, starts throwing things out of his crib. So I have to stop and pick things up, wrangle him at the same time and pick him up again. Painful, my back and belly are killing me by this point…and yes, my cervix is still being tormented.
Story time didn’t happen. I tried, but he didn’t know what he wanted and was clearly overtired. So overtired he decided to throw his whole entire body into my belly. I thought I was either going to throw up or pass out from the pain. Into bed he went by 5:15pm and surprisingly went to sleep right away.
Then I had to pick up the disaster of a home that he left behind. Bending down, picking up, getting up. That is when I broke down.
How in God’s name am I going to get through the rest of this pregnancy with a toddler? The lifting, the bending, the backache, the abdominal pains…all day in and day out with no help at all and no break at all with a toddler who has crappy naps. I don’t know what to do. Then my mind shifted to – how the hell am I going to deal with a breastfeeding newborn and a toddler? Can I do it? I don’t know if I can. Can I? Oh God…I’m terrified.
All the dirty dishes in my sink right now, piled high, can screw.