October 06, 2006
 
no new sprouts

Two weeks ago I made a definite decision: it was time for a new baby. Now that the appropriate moment has come to put this plan into action, I am scuttling all plans. Blake's behavior in the past 24 hours has been unimaginably destructive and tiring, and I'm having trouble remembering why I keep him around in the first place.

Imagine struggling with an intractable toddler for 2 solid hours - alone, because the Boy now works a 4:30 p.m. to 1 a.m. warehouse shift - and eventually getting to the point at which you had to go to bed yourself. We have one bedroom, which I usually think is very cute and wholesome and Little House on the Prairie, but has very different implications when you're trying to go to sleep so that you can get to work the next day and your toddler won't SHUT THE HELL UP. His conversation is eternal; he'll make a great parkbench orator someday. And then, after being woken up at 3 when your bedmate comes in, to be woken at 5 by someone who wants to "cuddle" but can't stay still or quiet. Also, you must feel the despair of knowing that since your bedmate came in at 3, he probably won't want to get up while you have a shower. So you're fucked. Exhausted, frustrated, and with weird bedhead.

I did get a shower (thanks to my dad - chalk another ironic point up to living with my parents), but I came home to a boy who was even more fizzed up and chaotic. My second blocking board was broken in two, thus negating any nice thing I could do for Jacquie. Two boxes of CD covers were emptied on the floor, and while I was cleaning them up, he was extending my CD and DVD racks on the hard-drive, the better to pinch them together and press the reboot button. As soon as I handed him the water he asked for, he upended the glass on his high chair tray.

I've hit maximum frustration so many times that I'm starting to feel burnt out. Like when I was depressed and something more was required of me, I can almost feel the emotional wheels turning tracklessly in a deep snow bank.

The best part is that I get to do the same dance tomorrow morning.

The Boy isn't really able to help me; his so-far unsuccessful job search has led to such terrible pressure from my parents that he ended up getting the afore-mentioned Shitty Warehouse Job just to get them off his back. We're in a really bad position right now financially, as our debt-load and monthly expenses preclude moving out without a second income. So we can't exactly escape the psychotic atmosphere of "you must have a job right this second or you are beneath worthless" without a job. At least this SWJ still leaves the Boy free during the day, so that he can (theoretically) carry on the job search. I can't believe that he doesn't have a teaching job; I feel like the world's taking crazy pills. And beyond the basic craziness, there's the implications that without a teaching job we'll be in this fucking basement forever.

Still, if I wasn't bedding in a basement, I wouldn't have bathed today. So that's ok.

Last night (before bedtime) my parents, Blake & I took off to Hogsboro United Church for a turkey dinner fundraiser. It's an incredibly popular fundraiser, drawing over 500 people, and there was a wonderful atmosphere of carnival about the whole thing. And although I was kind of expecting it, I was truly taken aback when one of my students from last year was taking tickets.

(It's funny - he was one of the few really good people in that first set of 9 Xanders, and as soon as I saw him, I knew why. You have to be a good person if they let you take tickets for the UCW fundraiser.

He was also surprised to see me, which was funny. He's grown about a foot in the summer, and his voice was cracking all over the place. Hee. Puberty is the funniest thing of all.)

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 10/06/2006 02:34:00 PM



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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*