Chock Full of Irritants

I had a headache last night so I took an Advil PM and went to bed at 8:30. I was sound asleep when the phone rang at 9:00 with a message from the school reminding us that there is early dismissal tomorrow and Thursday due to parent teacher conference.

Yeah, thanks. We’d just discussed that very thing earlier in the evening, when I was awake.

Three minutes later my phone rang again. I considered throwing it across the room. Instead I answered it and spoke with a lovely person from IU asking if we were going to the IU Dance Marathon next week. We are. I was tired, though and I worry that I might have been a little abrupt while on the phone.

Thankfully, the phone didn’t ring again during the night.

However, Olivia’s cough kicked in at about 10:30. She coughed and coughed and coughed and then she took a breath and coughed some more. My hazy, Advil PM’d brain finally forced my lazy body out from under my delightfully warm blankets and rubbed some Vicks vaborub on O’s back and chest. I’d given her cough medicine before bed but, alas, it didn’t work nearly as well as I’d hoped.

She settled down and I went back to bed.

She joined me under my delightfully warm blankets less than an hour later, at which point she asked me to help her take off her pajamas and pull up. You know, because it’s nice to sleep naked in November.

Once she was satisfactorily naked, she settled in to hog the bed for the rest of the night. I fought her jabby elbows, her pointy toes, her giant head and even her poky knees all night long. It was awful.

I dragged myself out of bed at 5:40 after a very unrestful night. But hey, check it out, the headache was gone.

The instant I stood up, Olivia sat up in the center of the twin bed she’d hogged and said, “Carry me to the bathroom?”

I muttered, “Of course, because heaven forbid you actually stay in bed once I’m not there to push out of it.”

Yes, it was a crowning moment of loving motherhood. I’m not proud of it but damn it, I was tired, I was groggy from the stupid Advil PM and sometimes, I’d just like ten minutes to go about my morning routine without company.

Instead, I carried her naked butt into the bathroom with me where I turned on the space heater so she could plop her still-naked butt in front of it and cook her feet while I gathered clothes and started the water in the shower.

Then, before I’d even had a chance to pee (tmi? Really? Is that even possible on a blog?) Tom joined us in the bathroom.

Tangent: We have a fairly large master bathroom but it gets downright crowded when you cram two adults and just one kid who won’t move from the center of the room where she’s cooking her feet. End tangent.

He wanted to let me know that he would be bringing a package to me to ship because he hadn’t been able to make himself get up at 3:15 to pack. He suggested he start packing right then and I just do all the morning prep so he could just send it with me instead, which would save him a trip to town. He laughed like it was a joke but I didn’t join him in the laughter because, well, it wasn’t funny and I knew he was only half joking.

In the end, Tom managed to pack the item he needed to ship and get the girls their breakfast so, hey, win/win, right? Except, and this is so indicative my irritable mood, he sang the entire time he was packing and pouring cereal and milk.

He sang a nonsensical song that drove me nuts. I’d describe the song but…no, I just can’t. It was that irritating and I’m still not over the irritation.

See, Tom sings when he’s happy and I’m glad for that. I love that about him. I really do. I also have told the girls that we know Dad’s happy when he’s singing. But they’ve also figured out that when Mom rolls her eyes, she’s not quite so happy and I was working hard not to roll my eyes this morning.

On top of the bed-hogging, the singing, the foot-cooking and ‘joking’ the girls’ bus was late this morning.

Late enough that I ended up taking them to school myself because if we waited any longer for the bus, they’d be late for school. Which, I know, if they’re on the bus, is not really a big deal but Alyssa was stressing and I get that. I always hate to be late too.

And because I drove them to school…I was fifteen minutes late for work. While I know things could get way worse, let’s take a moment now and hope it doesn’t. Thanks so much.