Sunday, July 20, 2008

My 800th post: Life as a Pitchfork Widow

"Can't you at least pretend you're okay with me leaving you with the girls all day?" asked Josh as he left this morning.

Um, no. The happy housewife mask requires at least 6 hours of sleep to fit correctly. I got about 4 last night thanks to a cranky, clinging baby who refused to sleep and required constant holding between 2:30 and 5:15am. Naturally, her big sister woke up at 5:40.

Baby A continued to be out of sorts most of the day--she didn't want to eat until the afternoon, she was drooling up a storm, and her napping schedule was all thrown off. In spite of the nap shortage (heck, I could have used one too), we managed to have some fun, tricycling up and down the street, making milkshakes and stealing our neighbor's wading pool for a little aggressive splashing (Z) and peeing in the pool (A). We also joined a few friends for a backyard BBQ.

I want to ride my trike from almaklein on Vimeo.

But by the time I got them into the car to drive home, both of the girls were exhausted and hysterical. And, in a parenting low point, I shouted, "Shut up!" to Z as she tearfully complained how it wasn't fair that her car seat was down low and A's was up high and I needed to fix it right now.

Did you follow that? We were parallel parked and Z's side was closer to the curb--thus, it she was sitting somewhat lower. They both cried through their bath (I even skipped the soap and just rinsed off the sweat and visible dirt) and Z wailed as I nursed A because she was "so lonely and scared" right outside A's bedroom door.

At least they were both asleep by 8pm!