Pity Party

I just posted today about Cole being sick again, and then the day went from bad to worse!

I only got three hours of sleep last night, so I was hoping I could catch a nap today when the boys took theirs.  I put Ryan down at 1:30, and at 2, he was still up, and then Cole woke up.  No nap for this Mama today!

While Cole was sleeping he had an incredibly foul diaper, which leaked through some, so there was another mess to clean up.  He did manage to drink some water, and breastmilk and keep it down, but he was terribly fussy.  I don’t know how I managed to get all my consignment sale tags done, but I did.  (Yea for small miracles!)

I called Joe at 4:30 to ask him to bring some Jell-O home for Cole, and he said he’d be home in half an hour.  Then my dad called and said he’d be by for a short visit on his way home from work.  I was happy that my dreadfully long day was ending, and was hoping I could make a quick dinner for the boys and then rest for a little bit.

At 5, the phone rings and it is the massage therapist Joe has been working with since the car accident, wondering where he was.  S***!  He had an appointment at 4:45, and we both totally forgot, even though it was written on the calendar.  I told her I’d try calling him, and he could probably still make it.  He did end up making it, but now Ryan was wondering where Daddy was, and to top that off he said his stomach was hurting, and now Joe wouldn’t be home for another hour.

Fortunately, my dad still stopped by, but Cole & Ryan wanted nothing to do with him. I have to hand it to Grandpa- he pulled out his work cell-phone / walkie-talkie, and made it beep and the boys flocked to him like bees to honey.  I was trying to get some dinner made while my dad was here, and got it finished just as he had to go. 

By the time I freshened up a salad for my dinner, Cole was done with his rice and wanted out of his chair.  I got him cleaned up and thought I could finally sit down and try to eat.  Ryan said his stomach was feeling better so he was up and down from the table, playing with Cole.

I wrote a few weeks ago about their Drinking “Beer” game and they started playing that again.  But this time the 3.5 year-old took it a step further and threw one of the cans of Coke back into the pantry, and then I heard it- the can of Coke exploding.

Ryan looked stunned- Cole looked stunned- I looked stunned- time stood still.  I slowly made myself look at the Coke dripping down the pantry walls, the door, and over absolutely every thing and item in the pantry.  I saw my two boys covered in sticky, gooey, Coke from head to toe.  I saw Coke puddles all over the floor.  I saw Cole splashing in the Coke, making an even bigger mess.  I heard Ryan saying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry- it was an accident,” over and over, and I heard myself starting to cry.  I heard myself asking why did this have to happen today– haven’t I had to clean up enough messes during the last 24 hours?  I heard myself saying, I just wanted to sit down for five minutes and eat, and now I have to clean up another gross mess.   

What else could I do, but start?  I rinsed the boys off in the sink.  Ryan told me it was almost night-time and I would feel better in the morning.  He kept saying he was sorry, and said he wanted to give me a hug to make me feel better.  I told him it was okay, it was an accident, but I was upset and didn’t want to hug him right now.  I told him I needed him to play with Cole in the living room, so I could clean up.

As soon as I put Cole in the living room, he started to scream.  He dashed back into the kitchen to be with me.  I put him back in the living room, and he screamed again, trying to get back in the kitchen.  I grabbed a chair and blocked the entrance to the kitchen with it- you can imagine how much Cole loved that, and what kind of screaming fest I was treated to!

I asked Ryan again, to see if he could sing a song or play with Cole, and I was crying again.  He told me he was very, very, sorry, and that just made me feel worse!  I finished filling up the mop bucket and went to Ryan.  I hugged him and told him he didn’t need to be sorry anymore, I loved him, and Mommy was just very tired.  He looked so relived and it reminded me how much power I have right now over him, and how utterly miserable he looked before I told him everything was okay.  I never want him to think that I don’t love him, but sometimes it is so hard to keep everything running and having to think about everyone else’s feelings when I am just beyond exhausted.  I am glad that I took those few seconds with him, so he knew everything was okay, and I was not mad at him. 

As soon as I was done hugging him, Joe walked in the door to our lovely situation.  He offered to clean up the mess, but I told him I’d get it, and he picked up Cole, who immediately stopped screaming.  Joe read to the boys and then took them upstairs to play, while I cleaned up.  Joe also had a talk with our oldest son, on why we don’t throw pop cans.  🙂  It took half-an-hour to clean everything up.

Later while I was cleaning up Ryan’s bedtime snack dishes, he gave me a big hug and said, “I love you Mommy.”  Then when I was putting on his pajamas he told me I was his number one girl.  I don’t know where he picked that up from, but it melted my heart.  I really do have a sweet little boy, who is very good.  This was just a very bad day for an accident to happen, but under the circumstances I am happy that I didn’t yell at him, or lose my temper. 

This is the type of day as a mother you can’t prepare for- you just find yourself in the middle of this tempest, like a hurricane, with more and more problems brewing, and gaining momentum.  You can’t predict these days, you just have to go with it, and hope in the heat of the moment when you think you have taken all you can take, and then more and more crap happens, you can get through it the best you can, without taking it out on your children.

I have to admit that I am so glad these 24 hours are over, and Cole has stopped vomiting. Even though only one can of Coke exploded, I threw away the other can, and it will be a long, long, time before pop cans make another appearance around two little boys in our house.