Meanwhile, Rotten is doing a lot of this:
I hate it when they're sick. I feel sad when they're miserable and don't really understand why. I have to admit, though, that I feel like a better mom when they're sick, because I understand what to do. Big boys can be given juice and snuggles in my bed when they wake up coughing. I can sing to a stuffed up baby in a shower to calm them down and open up airways. Sure, it can be exhausting, but give me a kid with a cold, and I'm okay. I don't worry about doing that wrong.
We had a meeting at preschool where we could discuss issues with our children with the parent educator. Stinky's had me in tears a few times lately, and I don't always understand what he needs. I was given a few ideas, but mostly reassurance. The parent ed. said, though, that it is much harder to parent in our generation than it was two generations ago. There was less pressure on parents to do things just so, less 'do it wrong, and your child will be in prison.' I don't worry too much about Stinky being in prison, unless you count dinner with the neighbors earlier this month, but that's nothing I need to get into.
I worry about getting through the next week without losing my mind- every week. Anyone else going a little crazy? I'm sure we all are. So, I'm finding my sanity in the little things: mixing 'greedy-ants' into cookies with Stinky, the taste of Dr. Pepper, singing to Rotten, hearing the hum of my sewing machine, crashing on the couch with WBH at the end of the day. Combine those things, and I know I can make it until at least tomorrow before I lose my mind.
Those things are way better than a hotel room and Diet Sprite.