I’ve had some kind of stomach virus for the past 2 days that is driving me insane. Yesterday my lovely husband spent his day bringing me water and cleaning up my vomit because I simply wasn’t able to do it myself. Today I was feeling a bit better so I tried to eat only to find that my stomach disagrees with me. Well tough shit tummy, we’ve got a baby on board who can’t go 2 days without eating so you are damned well going to hang on to whatever bland, gentle foods I can swallow for the baby’s sake. That means I am going to lay on the couch and cry all day because everything in my whole body hurts, especially my stomach.
Oh, man, overlyverbose, you’re being a little hard on yourself there. It’s okay. Really. You’re a really good mom.
It was 70 degrees Tuesday, tonight it might snow. I’m not ready for winter. I hate winter, and it hates me back. The cold makes my joints ache something awful, and I can’t put enough layers on to keep warm. Well, not and be able to move… Having my office against an uninsulated brick wall with a drafty window doesn’t help either.
Why do I live in Indiana? :heavy sigh:
Overly, we all have meltdowns (my son has seen me pretty melted down in the past) you can only do what you did, which is apologize for scaring him and try not to again. we’re all only human.
Thanks for the kind comments. This is the first time I’ve really lost it in months. I’m usually a really controlled person around my kids, so this was very unsettling.
My parents never apologized to me for anything they did, from small to large. Never-never-never. For them to know you are fallible and make mistakes is not a bad thing. For them to think you never own up to your mistakes is far worse.
Don’t beat yourself up over this one thing. Please. You’re a good mommy, I know.
If it makes you feel better, I am going to be extremely lucky if I make it to my baby’s birth without either popping a vein or getting into a fist fight. I normally have somewhat of a temper, but lately it’s been off the rails. I haven’t felt myself actually flush with anger since I was a kid, and it’s happened several times in the last couple of months.
Today’s incident? Some douchebag on the train was bullying someone about his music (we have quiet ride cars for a reason, asshole, use them! [also, the guy’s music was not that loud; I couldn’t even hear it until he took off his headphones when Douchebag started harassing him]) and I actually had try hard to stop myself from giving him a bunch of shit, or moving to a nearby seat and playing Angry Birds at full volume. What. The. Hell.
And the rage isn’t directed at my husband or anyone close to me, just random strangers being dicks. I almost chased a woman down for throwing a cigarette butt on the sidewalk yesterday. I’ve gone feral, and I can only assume it’s pregnancy related. I haven’t acted on it… yet, but I can feel my self-control slipping.
Overly, in my experience, yours sounds like one of those “teachable moments” for your son. You apologized, and that’s a great thing, and maybe later it’s a good time for one of those conversations like “You know how you sometimes get mad and frustrated when you can’t get your puzzle together, or your arm just won’t go in your sleeve right? Yeah, me too. Part of learning to be an adult is learning how to behave when you ARE frustrated. I guess you saw this morning that that’s a lesson you have to keep learning. Sorry you had to hear that.” It lets him know that he’s normal, and you’re trying, and helps reinforce that you’re not mad at him, you’re just frustrated.
Feel better soon.
But don’t worry too much that the baby isn’t getting enough to eat. At one point in my first pregnancy I was 33 weeks along and had hypermesis. I couldn’t really keep food down for about two weeks. I was in the hospital where I basically lived on IVs for ten days. The baby was fine. She was eight days late and almost seven pounds.
Eeep! You can get hyperemesis that late? I was blithely thinking I was out of the woods!
Pregnancy is insane.
I’m afraid so. But the good news is they can control it. And if it gets really bad you’re at the stage where they can at least deliver the baby and all should be okay. I was ultimately pretty lucky since it was a one time experience and resolved itself. The baby I was carrying was not only full term but actually several days late. I was terrified that it would recur during my second pregnancy but not even a hint.
Pregnancy is not for sissies as I’m sure you know.
Ha! I can’t really complain; I’ve had an easy time of it so far: little nausea, I’m well-rested, and I feel really good.
I need to sign up for an anger management class or something, though.
Yeah, I’m planning to pick him up from after care early tonight so we can talk. Normally my husband gets the kids, but I want a chance to talk to my son alone, without us getting interrupted by my daughter. Then I’ll try to give her some extra hugs and kisses, too.
Again, thanks for all the supportive comments.
Another mini rant: I’m taking a vacation day tomorrow to see my family. I make the mistake of informing people at work of this and within 10 minutes they try to schedule an interview for me with a news outlet tomorrow. Goddammit, leave me the hell alone. I realize that it’s an important time of year - it also happens to be the busiest time of year for my department. We’re finalizing our budget, I’m developing the product and marketing plans for two products, we have record sales and the awful, awful manager quit a few weeks ago and we’ve since been uncovering huge problems she’d kept hidden. And, my sister is having a baby and is getting very nervous. I promised her I’d see her this weekend, I’ve had it scheduled since August and my family is more important than my work. So I am going to see her tomorrow. If you have any sense (and if the reporter’s deadline isn’t too tight), you’ll reschedule the damn thing for Monday (also a day off that really isn’t) or your reporter will have to listen to my children (one possibly shrieking) and the Wiggles while talking to me about health reform as I drive from here to there.
Between work and my children, I’m stretched almost to breaking and I have to go to give another fucking speech next Thursday-Saturday. Is it really too much to ask that I be allowed a day with my family, or even a three-hour car ride - which will be made longer by a strategic stop at a playground mid-way - with my kids in as much peace as they can manage?
Yo, VMware! What part of “Never remind me” do you not understand? As fun as it is to have to stop dozens of automated unit tests to go in and manually click “Never remind me” on dozens of VMs when the windows unexpectedly pop up over and over again, it’s kinda counter to the button text, no?
Here, let me help clarify with a hypothetical: Were I to bring up that you, Board of Directors, had to fire Diane Greene, and you say “never remind me,” which of the following would you expect:
[ul][li] I always remind you[/li][li] I sometimes remind you[/li][li] I do not remind you right away, then suddenly interrupt what you’re doing to remind you again at random intervals[/li][li] I never remind you[/li][/ul]
Times up! It’s the last one.
It’s November 10th. My feet are cold. They will probably not be warm again until April or May.
I don’t like cold feet. I want a pair of fleece houseslippers.
If the Shoe cat keeps climbing where he knows he’s not supposed to be, I’m going to have a pair of catfur slippers.
Thank you! Now the Voice of God is officially heard in my head as Jerry Lewis’s voice.
Alternately, find some who really really needs killing and go to town, then throw yourself on the mercy of the court for a seriously bad hormone swing, and make sure that your lawyer loads the jury with women who have gone through pregnancy …
Dude, after I’ve said my (fairly common) name three times, loudly and clearly, don’t say the first two letters and look inquiringly at me. You’ve had all the repetitions I’m going to give you. If you weren’t paying attention any of the first three times, TFB for you.
Be gentle with yourself, overly. Parenthood is the ultimate learn-on-the-job career, and we all screw it up. Being the sort who recognizes and tries to correct your mistakes makes you one of the good guys. You will remember this one for a long time, and Young Master Verbose will be all the better for having a parent willing to own up to her perfectly human and normal slip-ups.
Whenever there’s good news, there’s bad news.
My talk with my son went well. He seemed really reassured and it meant a lot to him that I picked him up to spend time with him alone. Yay!
But…wait for it…now I’m up for another few hours to make sure my daughter doesn’t have a concussion.
I was just wrapping up my discussion with my son about what happened today when I got a hysterical call from my husband. Apparently my daughter fell face first onto the corner of a wooden bookcase at daycare hard enough to give her a goose egg more than an inch in diameter just above her right eye with bruising underneath. And now I’m up for another few hours to monitor her for concussion (i.e., wake her up again in three hours to make sure I can). For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure she’s fine - acting normally, was walking fine, no vomiting, wasn’t in pain, etc. - but still…ffuuuck. This day is over soon, right?