First there was the "ER glass eating" incident.
Then there was the Pediatrician's appointment where I got in the teeney tiny exam room with the heat jacked up to 105 and realized that I had completely forgotten to shower anytime in the last 24 hours. Showering completely slipped my mind before I hauled my two 28 1/2 and 28 1/4 pound babies to the small room furnace to sweat middle-school-boy-smelling-buckets while holding wriggling children still so that a Pediatrician could get up close and personal to examine their ears, eyes, and mouths.
Not my finest moment. Good thing their Pediatrician is so awesome and is probably used to the middle-school-sweat smell overwhelming those itty bitty exam rooms. But I have seriously cringed at this memory all week. Forgetting to shower? What is my life coming to?
Then, to cap off the fabulousness of my week, I started a new temp job. I have been jumping through hoops for the past two months to get the paperwork, security clearance, and recommendations in place to work this
1. Second shift job (so that I could still spend the day with my kids and not have to put them in daycare which would eat up the whole paycheck anyway)
2. Data Entry desk job (nothing that would require any creativity on my part so that I could reserve all my creative energy for my continued writing endeavors)
Different than anything that I've ever done before, I was looking forward to a chance to try something new- using my typing skills for something other than my "tunnel vision life" which includes only the four walls of my house. Also, I would get to talk to real people, wear real clothes, and be someone other than the human dish rag my kids think I am.
It was supposed to last only a few months, but I needed a chance to get out of the house and clear my head before my husband's schedule really got going with the landscape season.
As it ended up, my new temp career that I have been stressing over for the past two months lasted exactly eight hours. One shift. Sixteen episodes of Signing Time.
I didn't anticipate that the slight back aches from lifting my 28 1/4 and 28 1/2 pound babies would compound into severe, flaming back pain when I tried to stay stationary in a seated position for eight hours.
I didn't anticipate going to a new job with excitement to be able to hold actual conversations to then be told that I wasn't allowed to talk at all except while on the super short breaks as to not take away from production.
I didn't anticipate that my dreams of calmly sipping coffee while typing in peace (without tiny hands reaching up in a mad attempt to steal my cup away and scald themselves) would not be possible as no where in the building was there actually any place to get coffee. (This should be illegal)
I didn't anticipate my husband's schedule changing ten million times from the time I originally asked him if he could be home by 3:00 certain days to the time that it became reality.
I didn't anticipate dressing in my finest (with matching socks!) with happiness to be wearing business casual once again to arrive to the location and see that it was casual week. My "mom pajama" uniform would have fit in much better than my classy jewelry set paired with my dress pants.
I didn't anticipate the stress; the new work clothes ending up costing more than the total made in my "career"; the flaming back pain that is still present even two days later; the panic attack as I realized I couldn't physically go back the second day; the sadness about the children's bedtime routine happening without me; the frustration from arriving home to find that a well-meaning husband who tried to make the dishwasher run better actually broke it which meant that the kitchen was piled high with more dirty dishes than I even remembered owning when I walked in the door at 12:30am.
So while I was almost passing out from the back pain- wearing a ridiculously dressy get-up while everyone else was slumming it in hoodies and "juicy" sweatpants- NOT spoken by anyone pretty much for the entire eight hours- without any coffee or any type of caffeine to help my heavy eyes stay open until midnight- full of worry about how I was going to be able to swing the rest of the week with childcare......I realized that this particular job just wasn't worth it.
After that eight hours, my tunnel vision life all of a sudden didn't seem so bad.
I had to make the difficult decision to say "no". It seemed unfair to my temp agency to bail like that, but it was even more unfair to my poor back, my poor children, my poor husband, and my poor dishwasher.
This morning as I sit writing in a house that looked like a bomb very well could have gone off in it only minutes before, sipping my coffee while the children watch Signing Time, and preparing for a new day with nothing more than my "tunnel vision life" ahead of me- I'm trying to shake off this past week and start new.
So to sum up my week:
1. Bad mommy takes child to Emergency Room
2. Smelly mommy forgets to shower
3. Unreliable mommy bails on her new job after eight hours
(I'm calling it: time of death for mother of the year...March 2013.)
Pretty much a stellar week, huh? I guess you all are stuck with me here with my obsession with sarcasm, pictures of my children, and long rants on everything and nothing. Speaking of pictures of my children...
Now if you'll excuse me, I have
a sudsy bubble bath waiting for me some pretty serious housework damage control to do around here.
p.s. I have extreme respect for all of you mothers who do work outside the home. Not for the faint of heart, that is for sure.
p.s.s. It's totally OK if you laugh at me. Goodness knows I'm laughing. And then say something nice. Because I could really use some nice words right about now.