OOOOOOOOOOOOOoooh this day kill me now.
Feb. 14th, 2008 11:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
altarflame12 hour shift for Grant, plus commute.
3 broken hours of sleep last night for me.
Elise in ultra clingy separation anxiety mode, happy as heck only on my hip or tied to my back.
Jake wanting to nurse or be held every minute, still hoarse.
Isaac wanting to be carried, even though he weighs 35 pounds and comes almost to my chest, and waking up choking and crying from a dozen mini-naps in our recliner.
Annie relapsing, choking and coughing and gagging from coughing and throwing up from choking and crying from breathing for like FOUR HOURS while I tried to rub her back with my free hand, bring her spoonfuls of honey, make her tea, make her warm broth, give her a popsicle, or just cry with her.
Pediatrician's phone busy, receptionist bitchy, office out to lunch, no transportation anyway but can I at least use this cough syrup from last year's croup never answered.
Laura came over and spent 5 hours and between the two of us struggling and double teaming her high needs nut and my five sickies, we managed to make lunch and bake a cake. In FIVE HOURS.
Grant is in bed for the night for half an hour now, since he has to be back at work for another 12 hours tomorrow. Ananda is coughing in the kids' room. Isaac is glassy eyed on the couch, watching a movie with Jake. Elise is asleep in a very "for now" way. My house is a wreck, my kitchen is a wreck, I am a wreck.
It's the first day of my period, too. My terrential hemmorage of a freaking period. There is no justice for me in this world. I have to spend my fifteen minutes every hour and a half in the bathroom mopping up the carnage with someone screaming outside the door and someone else strapped to my torso.
The only good thing is that today is Valentine's Day. G and I have no expectations or sense of obligation whatsoever about this day: it is totally ok with us both when it slides by with no mention from either of us. But some years I come out of the bedroom and there are like 30 balloons and their strings to fight through on my way to the kitchen, that is covered in chocolate and 3 foot high cards (really). Or we go out to dinner or something. I thought this was a nothing year, he was starting a new job and we've been sick and who cares. But then last night I ran in Publix for a few things alone, and got some ideas since I had the opportunity. So while I was there, I got him a silly card that plays Johnny Cash (I fell into a burning ring of fire...), and some of his favorite Pepperidge Farm cookies, and some candies he likes, this and that. I had them bag it separate and hid it in my (gigantic) purse, and when I got home I tucked this poem into the card -
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new
And then I sent him a really xxx email labeled "Happy Valentines Day" and went to bed all giddy and nutty about surprising him when he woke up before his first day at this job.
So then you know, cue day from hell but I was happy to have pulled something off, because really he is SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME at surprises and gifts. He's like millions of points ahead of me, if we were counting points.
But somewhere in the midst of my day from hell, there was a knock at the door and I answered, blearily with Jake on one hip and Elise on the other and Aaron opening it for me, to find a nice older lady holding a HUGE arrangement of a dozen (very) long stemmed red roses in a big glass vase. I had to put someone down and listen to whining and hurry and all, but it was nice, and I've gotten to look up and see them a hundred times in the midst of today, dominating my dining room.
And the sweet card (I know this is silly, but you are so beyond worth it), in his handwriting, was in an envelope labeled "Mrs Walker", which still just undoes me at the seams.
3 broken hours of sleep last night for me.
Elise in ultra clingy separation anxiety mode, happy as heck only on my hip or tied to my back.
Jake wanting to nurse or be held every minute, still hoarse.
Isaac wanting to be carried, even though he weighs 35 pounds and comes almost to my chest, and waking up choking and crying from a dozen mini-naps in our recliner.
Annie relapsing, choking and coughing and gagging from coughing and throwing up from choking and crying from breathing for like FOUR HOURS while I tried to rub her back with my free hand, bring her spoonfuls of honey, make her tea, make her warm broth, give her a popsicle, or just cry with her.
Pediatrician's phone busy, receptionist bitchy, office out to lunch, no transportation anyway but can I at least use this cough syrup from last year's croup never answered.
Laura came over and spent 5 hours and between the two of us struggling and double teaming her high needs nut and my five sickies, we managed to make lunch and bake a cake. In FIVE HOURS.
Grant is in bed for the night for half an hour now, since he has to be back at work for another 12 hours tomorrow. Ananda is coughing in the kids' room. Isaac is glassy eyed on the couch, watching a movie with Jake. Elise is asleep in a very "for now" way. My house is a wreck, my kitchen is a wreck, I am a wreck.
It's the first day of my period, too. My terrential hemmorage of a freaking period. There is no justice for me in this world. I have to spend my fifteen minutes every hour and a half in the bathroom mopping up the carnage with someone screaming outside the door and someone else strapped to my torso.
The only good thing is that today is Valentine's Day. G and I have no expectations or sense of obligation whatsoever about this day: it is totally ok with us both when it slides by with no mention from either of us. But some years I come out of the bedroom and there are like 30 balloons and their strings to fight through on my way to the kitchen, that is covered in chocolate and 3 foot high cards (really). Or we go out to dinner or something. I thought this was a nothing year, he was starting a new job and we've been sick and who cares. But then last night I ran in Publix for a few things alone, and got some ideas since I had the opportunity. So while I was there, I got him a silly card that plays Johnny Cash (I fell into a burning ring of fire...), and some of his favorite Pepperidge Farm cookies, and some candies he likes, this and that. I had them bag it separate and hid it in my (gigantic) purse, and when I got home I tucked this poem into the card -
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new
And then I sent him a really xxx email labeled "Happy Valentines Day" and went to bed all giddy and nutty about surprising him when he woke up before his first day at this job.
So then you know, cue day from hell but I was happy to have pulled something off, because really he is SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME at surprises and gifts. He's like millions of points ahead of me, if we were counting points.
But somewhere in the midst of my day from hell, there was a knock at the door and I answered, blearily with Jake on one hip and Elise on the other and Aaron opening it for me, to find a nice older lady holding a HUGE arrangement of a dozen (very) long stemmed red roses in a big glass vase. I had to put someone down and listen to whining and hurry and all, but it was nice, and I've gotten to look up and see them a hundred times in the midst of today, dominating my dining room.
And the sweet card (I know this is silly, but you are so beyond worth it), in his handwriting, was in an envelope labeled "Mrs Walker", which still just undoes me at the seams.
