It should have been a good day

Today was going to be an awesome day. I was going to get up, spend some time with X-man, get him to school, go have an hour-long massage and then go to yogalates at the gym. I've been dying for that class to fit into my schedule, and it's a bit too late in the morning most of the time.

Afterwards, I had the usual errands to run. I needed gas. I wanted to buy some kids some books from the giving tree over at Pages for All Ages. I needed to mail some X-mas presents, buy some canned cat food, plan the party games for Saturday's CARE party, work on my menu for the party, clean my house and bathe my dog. 

But Monday night, X-man was wiped. He'd had a hard day at school. If anyone invaded his personal space, he pushed them down. My normally very huggy and friend-oriented kid gets moody, particularly when he doesn't nap. And well, he has been refusing to nap so we've been settling for quiet time lately. It obviously doesn't work well. Instead, on our way back from picking up our cat from his dental cleaning/surgery on Monday, X-man fell asleep at 6:15 p.m. in his car seat. He didn't wake up on the transfer into the house. He slept through the diaper change. And he kept sleeping. He's done this a couple times before and usually goes 12-13 hours straight through.

I went to bed by 10 p.m. expecting it to be an early morning. But I have to admit, I didn't think that morning was going to come at 4:42 a.m. with a toddler jumping on my head and pulling the sides of my hair like he was riding me like a horse. I screamed in pain and said, "No!" and "Get off!" And instead he giggled and pulled harder.

I got away, and I was angry. I shouted. I snatched him from my bed, and I carried him to his room, changed his diaper, turned on his bedroom light and told him to play there. It lasted 30 minutes... then he came back in SHOUTING, "MOMMY!"

I sat up thinking something was wrong. He just wanted me to play with him. I said no. I pointed out that it was still dark and Mommy was still sleeping. He didn't care. 

Then he said, "Mommy, tummy hurt." 

Duh -- of course. He was STARVING. He'd last eaten at 2:30 p.m. I begrudgingly went downstairs. He asked for a banana. He ate the whole thing. I gave him another one and some apple juice. I turned on Bob the Builder. I went upstairs to get ready for the gym. I bashed the side of my left little toe into one of the wooden chairs at his drawing table. 

I got dressed. I brushed my hair and my teeth. I washed my face. I went downstairs and let out the dog and fed the cats. I dribbled wet cat food juice on my clean shirt. I made myself an egg sandwich. I ate it. I made X-man one at his request, he ate one piece of bread and dumped the rest onto the table. 

I started to feel sick. I ran to the bathroom. I started retching. Nothing came up. 

I got him dressed. He then wanted to use the potty. "Mommy, Poopy! Potty!" He didn't quite get there. But he sat on the toilet and took the world's smallest pee anyway. It was the first time he registered using the restroom with pooping, so I gave him a car anyway. I tried to put a new diaper and his pants back on. He didn't want it. We struggled. I got them on. He fought me on the socks and then the shoes and then the coat. We got in the car. I dropped him off and realized I'd forgotten to bring the thank you note for his student teacher.

I drove home, got the note, filled my car full of holiday boxes to be mailed. I got some gas. I went to my massage. Lorree Harty at Hair Design at Knollwood gave me an extra 30 minutes on my 60-minute massage for free. Not going to complain about something I really needed. It was too late to make it to yolates. Instead, I dropped off the thank you and did my Pages shopping. I found nothing for my aunt or my husband, but did do my annual giving.

I made a deposit at the bank and then I went home. I ate left overs for lunch. I did the dishes. I ran the laundry. I did some accounting. I hung up all the ornaments X-man yanked off the tree. I cleaned two of the toilets. I wrote Christmas cards. 

I felt tired and sick to my stomach still and achy all over. I took a nap. I woke, still really tired. I took a hot shower. I got dressed. I picked up X-man. The teachers said he napped. We bought cat food. We came home. He's been all over me ever since. It's like he's manic with energy. He screams when he wants something. I'm constantly reminding him to talk to me nicely. He runs up to me when I'm on the phone wanting me to direct my attention to him. When I get off the phone and sit down to play with him. He bosses me around. So I say I won't play with him because he's not treating me nicely. 

I make dinner. He can smell the french fries. He starts shouting for them. They're still cooking and they're too hot. He shouts at me to blow on them while they're still in the oven. When they're finally cooled off, we eat. He won't talk to me. He's mad I turned off the TV to talk to him.

Later, I have to restart the iMac. He freaks out when he can't watch Snoopy on demand. Instead, he gets placated with the Wiggles. Then, he runs up to me while I'm writing something on the calendar and hits me in the back. He gets a time out. Fresh out of time out he dumps the paper recycling all over the floor of the room.

I call an early bath time so we can do an earlier bed. We take a bath in Mommy's bath. We play and smile and I wash his hair and his body. He plays with Salty and the washcloth. I get into my pajamas. I get his pajamas ready. 

He refuses to wear the ones I pull out. He refuses to get his own. It's another struggle. He pulls down his pull up, "Pee on potty, Mommy." He leaks a little down the front of the diaper. I take him to the potty. He tries to rip the shower curtain down. I tell him no and to be gentle. He pees and gets his sticker and his Tootsie Roll. He brushes his teeth. 

Bedtime. I read three books of his choice. We talk to Daddy over Video iChat. He wants to sleep in Mommy's room. So I tuck him in and turn off the lights, but leave the hall light on as a night light. He wants me to lie with him. So I do. He puts his blankie over my head and bites the side of my temple through it. I say, "Ouch! No Biting!" He laughs. 

I decide to remove myself from harm. I tell him I love him and go to his room, so he can fall asleep, which is our norm when Daddy is gone lately. He gets up and follows me. I tell him it's time to go to bed. He wants to sleep in his room... he's still in the hall whining and calling out for me, while I lie in my bed with the door closed feeling like a complete asshole.

Why can't it ever be easy? Why is everything a flipping struggle?