Today was our first day back to work, and it did not start off well. I woke up with great intentions and everything. Today was my day to get up first, so when George got me up, I quickly got up and out of the room so Barney could get some more sleep. I also knew that I was waiting a large pile of work for the day.
However, we faced immediate setbacks. We spent all of 2010 potty training with George, and in the last six weeks, we have been accident free. However, he had an accident in his bed around midnight last night, which we dealt with. I was shocked when he had had a second accident sometime this morning before getting out of bed. We've never had two accidents in a row like that. But, I dealt with it, got him dressed, and got Olivia dressed.
We headed downstairs to make Barney breakfast--blueberry muffins, which are rarely made and thus always a special treat. My plan was breakfast in bed with a sweet note. But, right before the muffins came out, George came in to let me know that he had wet his pants, which never happens. I was shocked and dismayed. I sent him up to his room to get new clothes, and once I took the muffins out, I followed him up. I found that he had had a fourth accident on his carpet, which he was trying to clean up but only making worse.
At this point, I fairly well broke down. I unceremoniously took Olivia into our bedroom and told Barney he had to take care of her while I dealt with George. I started scrubbing the carpet determined to improve my attitude and frame of mind, but then Barney walks in on the phone. He is talking to CSS about a house showing today. I look around my house and see Christmas boxes everywhere along with a pile of laundry and a sink full of dishes needing to go in the dishwasher, which had to be emptied. Not to mention the dirty carpet I was trying to clean...
At this point, my resolve collapsed entirely. I was panicked, rushed, and utterly overwhelmed at the great amount of work facing me today. I actually sat down and yelled in frustration, and I am not talking about yelling at a person. I'm talking about just letting out a loud yell. We were gone for nine days and had no showings. Of course we had a showing the day after we get back. Of course it would be the day George decided to have some weird setback/meltdown.
Throughout the day I tried multiple times to get a better grip on my attitude, but it seemed like every time I would build some resolve, something new would happen that would just eat away at it. Finally, we got the house cleaned up and were able to head out in time for the showing. Only after that point did I achieve any modicum of ability to offer much in the way of support to my husband. If I'm being honest, most of the day he probably did best to avoid me as much as possible. I am touched by how well he handled my stress, but I am going in for an early night tonight in hopes of a better perspective and a fresh start for the morning.
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