There is a dead fly on my window sill.
I noticed it Saturday, before I answered the phone to hear the pediatrician’s nurse telling me to bundle Shaggy up and get him to the office right now.
I knew the fly was there, even as I packed the diaper bag frantically for the hospital stay. That fly has been—wait for it—bugging me ever since.
I still haven’t had time to pick it up.
Gross, right?
I just don’t have time. In fact, I have so little time that I had to skip The Poo’s tumbling class today for the second week in a row. We woke up grumpy and sleepy here, and Shaggy Boy is engaged in The HOT fuss!™
I felt guilty for a split-second, just long enough to realize that it’s been almost three months since I’ve had any kind of time to do anything, really.
First I was pregnant and unwell, then I was recovering from the birth, and now … well.
You know.
I feel it in me, the anger and impatience rising up. You’d think I’d be sweetness and light right now, floating on a wave of gratitude that Shaggy’s diagnosis is a simple one, a non-threatening one.
Grateful, I am, indeed.
His disorder does, however, make for a cranky boy. He has trouble eating, and the stridor wakes him up at night and during his naps. At his best, his sleep is light, and at his worst, it is non-existent.
Last night he had The Hot Fuss!™ until about midnight, and then this morning he woke up in the same state. It is a bloody miracle I am dressed, and at 1:15 p.m. I JUST ate for the first time today.
The Poo is dressed and fed. The boy is dressed, fed multiple times, and, finally, fitfully asleep in his swing. The dishwasher is running and the laundry is in process. The beds are made and the counters are clear. My new client’s contract is filled out and signed.
But the floors are a mess and the carpet needs vacuuming. I want to make banana bread, so as not to waste the food that costs so much now. I need to write a column, and start researching the next two. I need to put away all the clean clothes and get the rest of the dirty ones downstairs.
The living room is dusty.
And that fly is still there.
Something had to give, and it came at a cost to The Poo.
I have a feeling it won’t be the last time.
September 18th, 2008 at 1:29 pm
Thinking of you.
September 18th, 2008 at 1:31 pm
I know there are times when you need to get this stuff out and written down or said to someone and that *that* in itself can help anyway.
All I can say is try not to be so hard on yourself… things will get better so quickly and change so fast.
All that same old stuff I know - but so true…
ps
I have a cobweb in the corner of my bedroom ceiling that I noticed on Thursday morning last week!
Still there?
errr… yup!
September 18th, 2008 at 1:43 pm
If you leave it long enough, it will just disintegrate or get bumped off and vacuumed up, or some dear friend will take care of it for you. Don’t sweat it, go play with Poo! (Makes you wonder about my housekeeping skills, doesn’t it?)
September 18th, 2008 at 2:18 pm
She probably doesn’t miss it. She’d probably rather help you. Give her a rag too and tackle it together.
September 18th, 2008 at 2:43 pm
I am going to say one of those things that I hated hearing from people after my second child was born: The Poo will not suffer for it. She will learn that sometimes she doesn’t get to do her activities. And that is okay.
btw - I am looking at 2 dead flies in my office right this very minute.
September 18th, 2008 at 3:45 pm
Girl, this brings back memories! Finn was diognosed with the same thing at around 8 months! It was no big deal once I got used to the sound - like he was gagging on one of his sisters. I remember calling the dr.s office when it started and the nurse said hold the phone up to him. Then she said are you closer to the hospital or the office? Crap! It faded away to nothing by about sixteen months! Whew! Shaggy’s all good.
September 18th, 2008 at 4:52 pm
Dude. I left FLIES. More than a couple of them on my windowsills for more than a few days. Possibly weeks. OK Many weeks. Even though your body might be capable of functioning I think it takes a long time after #2 to really pull it together. Especially when you throw some Hot Fuss tm into the mix. Maybe spiders will show up and eat it
September 18th, 2008 at 7:07 pm
Oh my goodness, I’ve been out of it and didn’t realise what was up with you! glad you’ve got great care and you know what the problem is… not knowing can be so scary! And the housework? It’ll wait for you. It’s not going anywhere… Alas!
September 18th, 2008 at 8:23 pm
She could help “play” with you and totally dig it. When Giggles was that age and the Chicken the age of your Shaggy. She loved to play with her-size Dirt Devil vacuum that really worked. And all the other pint sized things she had. At first when my MIL got her these things I thought she had fallen off her rocker. But they love to clean at this stage, Giggles felt needed, she could do something that the baby couldn’t. Plus when they get bigger cleaning isn’t something fun. we actually have video of Giggles begging to do the dishes at 4…its adorable.
September 18th, 2008 at 8:26 pm
Don’t sweat the small stuff my friend. They will get done in time. For now just worry about you and the kiddos.
I haven’t washed my kitchen floor in 4 month, just spot clean here and there. Anyone want to say something about it I’ll punch them square in the privates.
September 18th, 2008 at 8:31 pm
I understand. I really, really understand.
September 18th, 2008 at 9:08 pm
and there will be times that it is at his cost, as well. And yours. That’s just what family is.
September 19th, 2008 at 8:19 am
I hate the guilt that tries to attach itself to motherhood. I really, really, REALLY hate the guilt. And the worst part is that we do it to ourselves. Think about this. You are teaching your daughter an incredible life lesson in prioritizing. We cannot do everything. Everyday somethings have to be scratched from the list and sometimes it sucks. But you are showing her that we can survive the scratching process. And while sometimes it’s not “fair” we can be strong enough to do it. And YOU are strong and YOU are surviving so take some pride in that.
September 19th, 2008 at 10:53 am
You, yes YOU and the kids are the priority now. Nothing else comes first. All those other things are unimportant in the long run. Believe me, I am 54 years old and raised two kids, one of whom died 4 years ago. That teaches you what your priorities are. You and the kids and the rest comes somewhere way down the line, not to forget your husband, of course, but he is an adult and can take care of himself. Soothe yourself and the children, be kind and gentle and take your time.
September 19th, 2008 at 8:41 pm
I’m only slightly ahead of you in the experience of juggling two kids, but I can tell you it does get easier. And right now, caring for yourself and the kids comes first. Let the dust settle on everything. Seriously. Better to have a dirty house and sanity. You won’t look back on this time years later and think, “I should have cleaned more.”
(Confession: we just cleaned out our garage for the first time since we moved in 4 years ago. I won’t even begin to tell you about the dust, dirt and dead bugs we found in there.)
September 22nd, 2008 at 7:39 am
Try sharing your attention between three
We make sacrifices on behalf of the kids every day. The four year old just started doing ballet (if you can call it that). Her older sister started harping on about wanting to do it too…
“You can if you stop your swimming lessons”
“That’s not fair”
“Tough”
September 29th, 2008 at 8:22 pm
When my first was a baby — he was a fusssssy one, and I had days where I didn’t eat until late in the day, days where I neglected myself too much, days that left deep scars on my sweet dreamy mother heart.
It was the spilled soy sauce in the fridge door that haunted me for weeks.
Shaggy will get older and be able to tell you where it hurts and Poo will start school eventually. Take care of you before anything else. EAT. And just know that it WILL get easier.
Oh, and I know it’s too late for this, but you can always stick the bananas in the freezer for next week. (Peel ‘em first.)