Friday, October 21, 2011

The drama that is split shift parenting..and you forgot WHAT???

Oh that man...I love him so...but sometimes I really wonder where his brain is. Like REALLY. I assume he leaves it at work on Wednesdays and Thursdays, which happens to coincide with the two days he's actually home when everyone else is. *sigh*
We have a really whacky family dynamic...I really do feel like a single mother most of the time (now for all of you actual single mothers about to jump my ass-chill the f out: I was a single mother for 4 years with The Boy so I KNOW the difference.), and most of the child-rearing and household responsibilities lie on my shoulders. Good thing I'm a big girl, cuz I have a LOT on my shoulders at any given time. And the hubs off days are in the middle of the week, so on the weekends, I don't get much of a break from the routine. Bless his heart, he tries..but there are so many things that he misses, and doesn't 'get' about the kids that drive me insane..Like when he asks me 'Why is the baby crying?'(he gets really tense when the CRY is in full force-more on that new sound later)  I dunno, did you ask him?? Like I freaking know! He's a baby, he cries sometimes, it's ok... 'How do I make the bottles again?' WOW really, it's been like 11 months, come the F ON.  As I'm standing in the kitchen, eating with one hand, holding the baby, and loading the dishwasher, because yet again, nobody did it during the day, 'Babe, where are my work clothes?' See the steam coming out of my ears yet?? There are a lot of snippy comments and 'looking hard' at each other when things get really hairy, especially in the mornings, when he's been at work all night and ready for bed, I've been up and down with the baby that never sleeps, and still need to get ready for work. I so enjoy trying to flat iron my hair with a 2 foot tall midget biting my ankles, and throwing random things in the toilet. Stinker. It's a hard schedule that we live. I hate it. But it's where we are right now, and I'm trying really hard to accept it. I know it's hard on him too, and I have to remind myself of that often, because he loves those boys more than life itself, and would do anything for them, yet doesn't really get to be part of their daily life. It hurts him, I know it.
We have many, many days where I get home from work and he's waiting to kiss us and leave for work. Many days where I just can't get ANYTHING done in the evenings, and just sit and stare at the wall after the baby goes to bed like some crazy lady who just took a bunch of Xanax.  He does what he can, and I appreciate that, but sometimes Daddy's good intentions can have stressful, although now amusing, consequences...

Yesterday, he grabbed The Boy, and busted The Babe out of jail (aka daycare) right after lunch, and they spent the afternoon wandering the French Quarter, visiting with friends, checking out the music, etc...and then came to pick me up from work (we had previously planned for him to get me first, then go get the kiddos and run our errands). I was so happy to see all my men there to kidnap me from my desk! We let the baby run around the office for a minute to stretch his legs and then started out to get a few things done-the boy needed a new baseball glove, and everybody needed shoes..Well the babe had other plans...he was NOT getting back in the car seat. Just not doing it. After a few minutes of what was none other than an episode of WWE Smackdown in the backseat (ok chill I did not SMACK him, he was contorting himself so I couldn't buckle him in..shithead), I got a very pissed of and screaming baby in the seat, strapped in and unable to flip himself over again. He was none too happy. So I go for the diaper bag that should be in the car for a bottle because I knew this was the I'm pissed, but really more hungry cry. No bag. WTF? Honey where is the diaper bag? He points to the daycare bag...Oh shit.
Being that he's never home and I'm always the one running with the kids, how could he know that the Daycare Bag and the Regular Bag were two completely different bags that served two completely different purposes?? FML. Then I remember that the daycare bag has bottles in it-of just water(our daycare supplies formula). Double FML. At least he remembered to grab the diaper/wipe thingy. Whew, we'll be ok..
Halfway to the sports store the baby starts freaking out, and I mean freaking.the.f.out. He's hungry, he wants his bottle, and he wants it NOW. There is NOWHERE to stop we're on the interstate...and the cry starts turning into what we have dubbed THE cry.
Remember in Dumb and Dumber when Lloyd says 'u wanna hear the most annoying sound in the world'...yeah, ear piercing like that, with a side of extra screaming. Talk about make ya get in a freaking car wreck! That had to be the worst driving experience I've ever had. Like even worse when the boy cried then entire ride home from the beach one year...
Honey where's his binkie??? Um, I forgot it at daycare. OMFG
How the H did you get away with having the baby for FOUR hours, not change his diaper, not have a binkie, and not have a bottle, have a great time and no problems???? And then bring him to me ready for a nuclear meltdown?!!!
Panic and tension have set in on all of us...I start scanning the road and remember there's a Walgreens by the sports store...hit the gas and hauled ass. Traffic. Motha fricken traffic. Dead stop. Are ya kidding me?? It's time for desperate measures here-yes people, I rode the emergency lane to get to the exit. I had to.
10 minutes and 30 flippin dollars later for formula, a binkie and a pack of crackers, we had a happy 11 month old making love to his bottle, and a freaked out 10 year old who asked us if we really couldn't send the baby back to the stork. (He later retracted that statement when his baby brother hugged his leg in the store).
And then in the store, I feel that warm wet feeling on my hip-you know the one-the diaper has exploded. Me to hubs...honey have ya changed the baby's diaper at ALL since you picked him up? Really? Bang.head.on.wall.  Of we went to the bathroom to strip the baby and try to dry my shirt.

All was right in the world again...until we went to dinner...let's just say I left the restaurant with a beer spilled in my lap and mashed potatoes mysteriously in my BRA.
Yep, that's our life:-)

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