stream of consciousness
Every weekend when I think back to the week, I remember almost nothing. The days are so long, but after a few of them, they blur into a fuzzy picture of exhaustion and skipped naps. The only thing that stands out to me from the past week is Tuesday evening. Gracie had once again skipped her nap and was writhing on the floor in tears, so I decided we were going out for donuts, torrential rains or not. I had earned it. I tried to run to the car while carrying Gracie, but something went wrong and I twisted my ankle while running through a puddle. I very clearly felt a tendon do something it's not supposed to do. I hobbled to the car in the rain, and I was so distracted by my ankle that I drove the opposite direction I was supposed to go. Once I finally got there and ordered, I opened my wallet to find my debit card missing.
At least I had donuts to console me. And at least I had my emergency credit card on me. I later found my debit card lurking in a dark corner of my wallet. I have no idea how or why it was there, but at least it wasn't lost.
On most weekends when James is home, I crash hard. I'm so drained from a week of solo parenting that I can barely pull myself out of bed or function on Saturday and Sunday. I had a strange burst of energy this past Saturday, so I cleaned and scrubbed the house and did a little toy organization. Do you know how much scrubbing goes into getting crayon marks off the furniture? Nothing is safe anymore! Any scrap of paper is immediately scribbled on, and I keep finding renegade green and blue drawings on the table and the coffee table. No matter how closely I watch her, she manages to leave her mark on everything. By lunch time, everything was clean, I was on my third load of laundry, I had been to the gym, and a pot roast was cooking in the crockpot. I felt like a superhero. It's amazing the things that can get done when James is around to wrangle her. He also brought me coffee and a bagel in bed in the morning. I have never known such luxury!
As expected, I hit a wall today. I think we all have. Gracie took only two solid naps this week, and she slept horribly last night and would not nap today. She has been screaming at the top of her lungs all day. With the constant pot wafting in from the neighbors, the screaming, and the snowstorm on the way, I've had a raging headache all weekend. She fell asleep in my arms for exactly 5 minutes this afternoon after the most fearsome tantrum she's ever thrown, and she woke up when I tried to lay her in the crib. Cue all the tears and screaming for two full hours. I know we lost an hour today in the time change, but I swear we gained one, because this day just won't end. I escaped to the bedroom and I can hear Daniel Tiger on downstairs, so I know James had to call in the big guns to calm her down. This is not how I wanted to start off my birthday week!
The good news is that James went full Burt Macklin, FBI, and discovered who the pot smoker is. The guy downstairs! I had narrowed it down to him and someone else, but he stepped outside this morning as James was outside, and a wall of marijuana smoke/air freshener hit him in the face so intensely that his eyes were burning for hours. We told the landlords, but they still need tangible proof to evict him. We're trying to hold each other back from attacking him. I want to let him have it for affecting my health for months. I can hardly sit in my living room without having an atrocious allergic reaction, and it's been so cold we can't crack the windows. I've even gotten hives! I will not rest until this guy is gone and I never have to see him again.
We've slowly been coming out of hibernation and socializing again, and it is so good to have adults to talk to again. I realized that I have three things on my calendar coming up this week and immediately felt anxious. Over three plans. I mean, really. Ridiculous. I am in this constant tension of wanting to hang out with people and then feeling anxious once I have plans, because that means I have to be somewhere at a certain time and not fall asleep sitting up. I think I have to re-train myself to be around other humans.
I finished reading the book Spaceman on Friday night, and I can't stop thinking about it. It was very well-written, and the prologue itself gave me an adrenaline rush. He talked about all the sensations of sitting in the space shuttle as it launched and entered space. HOW COOL IS THAT. I have no desire to go to space (hello motion sickness), but the whole concept is so mind-boggling and fascinating to me. I spent the rest of the evening watching videos of space shuttles launching and space walks, and then I wound up watching a documentary I found on youtube about what it's like to live in the International Space Station for an extended period of time. Can you imagine just floating around in the air with no gravity for 6 months?! I'm still thinking about it. I've even dreamed about it every night since. I took an abrupt literary turn and finally started reading Anne of Green Gables. That L.M. Montgomery can write. It is even more charming and delightful than I could have ever imagined, and I'm only two chapters in. And because I'm crazy, there are 5 books waiting for me at the library. I requested one, just to think of another one I want to read, which reminded me of another, and before I knew it I was drowning in library requests. Story of my life.
In non-book news, James and I blazed through the second season of Mercy Street this week. It was SO GOOD, and then I googled to find out when season 3 will air, only to find out it's been cancelled. Like a punch to the gut. Only the good die young. Now I'll never know if the Union Officers find the dead body in the warehouse or if Nurse Finney recovers from Typhoid. I demand answers! Just as soon as I take care of the hooligan who lives downstairs, I'll turn my attention to the BBC Masterpiece Theater and demand a script for season 3. I need closure.
I also need donuts, but no way am I leaving my house for them again.