The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly Cry

Well, today has been a day. Thankfully, one that is almost over. In fact, I should already be in bed, considering I’ve gotten five – six hours of sleep the past two nights, which in and of itself is scary for a thyroid-addled depressive mom of a wild child but is absolutely terrifying for a pregnant thyroid-addled depressive mom of a wild child.

We’ve had a terrible storm here the past two days, which kept the boy up the night before last. There were 21,735 lightning strikes between 9:11pm and 11:11pm, according to the Channel 4 Weather guy (via my husband) and the storm was so close, the lightning and thunder were simultaneous and louder than I’ve ever heard before. The wind and rain were so intense, we both ran around “battening down the hatches”, which really just meant putting bicycles inside the garage and making sure all of the sand toys were properly shut inside the sand pit. It still felt dramatic at the time, though.

Throughout those two hours, the boy kept waking up, piteously crying, “mummy, dad, mummy, dad” over and over again, making it difficult for me to fall asleep (I do like the kid, after all). Then, for no reason whatsoever, he decided to just be awake from around 11:30pm until God (and my poor husband) knows when because I finally fell asleep at 12:30 in the morning. I was not a happy lady, waking up at 6:00 the next day.

Although we planned for an early night, I was hosting our weekly Wednesday “Mommy & Me” group the next day (today), so I had lots of baking to do. Considering it was the boy’s birthday, I had promised these people cake. And I know what those tired mamas would do to me if said cake were not delivered. So, of course, I try completely new recipes. I make a quiche (and crust from scratch), chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese frosting, deviled eggs and all sorts of little goodies. Then, when everything is finally finished and it’s midnight and I lay my head on the pillow, I decide to watch Inside the Actors Studio: Cast of Arrested Development. Face palm.

Needless to say, I don’t even much remember this morning. I let the boy watch “the fishies” (The Little Mermaid) while I frosted the cupcakes and got everything set up (Oh, and made a ginormous pot of coffee… Sorry little baby…). 10:00 (When our group meets) came and went. 11:00 came and just when I started to fear the worst, three people showed up. Three. To celebrate my little boy’s second birthday. I organize the group. I travel all around this stupid city to go to everyone’s house, no matter how far on Wednesdays and Fridays and do all sorts of work for the group other days as well. And three people showed up. Granted, the boy couldn’t care less (one of those that came was his little girlfriend), but I will admit that I took it personally. Is it immature and ridiculous to do so? Yes. C’est la vie.

Add that to feeling generally overwhelmed, lonely and homesick and well, you can imagine my mood. On top of that, the boy turned into a monster. OK, not really. He’s been a monster for awhile. BUT WHY DOES HE NEED TO THROW EVERYTHING ON THE FLOOR? Water, food, toys, phones (Shall I share a photo of my ridiculously cracked [but still functioning] iPhone?!?!), chairs… Anything he can get his grubby little hands on. AND I CAN’T HANDLE IT ANYMORE.

But enough about that. It’s the bad. It’s what created the ugly cry – the all day, puffy faced, emotional hangover headache, exhausted, ugly cry. Frankly, I’ve thought about it enough. Once I look into what I’m going to do about it (both the need to get out of here issue and the can’t control my child issue), I’ll write more.

Because now, I need a little good. And the good is, we’re having another boy! I know, I know, I’ve been saying for ages (probably not here though, as I really only blog in my head [but if those were published, I’d be the most prolific, amazing blogger that ever was]) that I want a girl. And I do. Those little dresses and tutus and then the relationship between a mother and a daughter. However, two little boys! Brothers! Best friends (I’m assuming, though as my mother pointed out, her brothers aren’t speaking and were involved in a legal conflict recently – Thanks, mom!)! But really, I knew. I’ve always known I’d be a mother of little boys. And though my little monster has been an incorrigible little shit lately, I’d happily have two of him…

New Little Squishface (Eighteen Weeks)
New Little Squishface (Eighteen Weeks)




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s