Once each month I have a breakdown. And when I calm down, I chalk it up to it having been that "time of the month." But I swear, there are many months when it's not just my out-of-whack hormones that send me into couch-punching cursefests or uncontrollable crying fits (when I'm by myself, of course). It really does seem that the moon and planets align against me and crazy shit always seems to rain down at my most vulnerable time.
Take for instance this past weekend... I was told that we owe the IRS about $3,500 and had to hear that it's "my fault" because I do too much freelance work. As if I should turn down legal, lucrative work opportunities to spite the government. Oh, but we need to buy a house so we have a write-off. Which means I need to keep making money. Do you see where I'm going with this? But it is what it is... and I wasn't all that surprised, and have been socking cash away for this rainy day.
Onto the next day, a snowy one, actually. Here I am trying to calm down a tantrum-throwing J.J. (yes, we've just entered that fun new phase) while sitting double-parked in our car because we couldn't find a spot on my block for a half hour. I manage to get him to laugh only to turn around to see that a traffic cop was writing me a $115 ticket... even though I was in the car... and it was running... and I had no problem moving it... hence why I stayed in the car... but the biatch didn't tell me to move because and I quote, "it's not her job"!!! (Can you hear the fury in my angry typing?!) After I threw a tantrum of my own, the experience helped reinforce the idea that a new house with a driveway would be fabulous. That night, the falling snow was pretty, and J.J.'s excitement over it made me smile.
But when it rains (or snows), it pours. Right now, I'm listening to that pretty snow drip into J.J.'s room. The roof is leaking again. Drip. It's so freakin' (drip) annoying, distracting, and infuriating since (drip) I realize this means I'll be paying for a whole new roof for a house I don't plan to live in much longer (DRIP!). The last three people who patched it up -- yes, this is a reoccuring problem -- said we can't put off getting a new roof if it leaks again, "but you won't have to worry about it for at least five years"). Or in reality, more like six months. Just in time to ruin the vacation plans I finally convinced myself were OK to make, even though I just got slammed on my taxes and should be saving for that house with ample parking.
And to top it off? I just got my period. Wait -- that's good news! Things can go back to normal again. 'Til next month...
Well, dear readers, if if seems I haven't had all that much free time to blog lately, there's a reason, and his name is J.J. Gone are those sacred 2-3 hour naptimes (his, not mine -- I wish!) on my days off. I know that there are three- and even four-year-olds who sweetly lie down each day at their specified naptime and wake up happy and refreshed, and I was hoping my son would become one of them. But at two and a half, the dream is over.
For one thing, J.J. simply has been refusing to nap for me without a fight (and sometimes, not at all!) for the last couple of months. Although he eagerly napped for his dad and grandmother, with me, he'd whine for an hour, finally fall asleep way too late in the afternoon, and then want to stay up until 10 p.m. or later. What was the point of that?!
So this week, I've taken a stand against common practice and officially declared a no more nap rule. And I'm totally OK with it! Now J.J. and I really get to spend the whole day together. Get this: Just the other day, he finished doing a puzzle, and after doing his celebratory arm-flapping dance (it's hysterical, I swear!) he turned to me and said, "Mommy's turn." How cool is that?! It kind of means I no longer just take care of him -- instead, we hang out. We have conversations, make silly jokes, sing silly songs, and dance goofily around the house. This is what I've been waiting for all along! Sure, I've loved my son since the first minute I saw him, but now he's my best pal, too.
Other napless day perks? Let's see... I don't have to rush home from our morning outings to make sure we're back for naptime or rearrange plans around it. And, here's the best part -- I've gotten my evenings back since my sleepy boy welcomes his earlier bedtime without a struggle. My husband and I feel like grown ups again, with more time to enjoy adult conversation.
If all goes according to plan and my extra evening time isn't a fluke, I just may get back into the blogging game -- that is if I'm not too exhausted from all the puzzles and dancing.