...and that's why you found me in the fetal position when you came home from work last week...and the week before that...and everyday in August...

Now that Adam is laid off I’ll be picking up extra shifts at work, and believe me, there are plenty of extra shifts for anyone who wants them. Our FT 2nd shifter goes on vaca next week. Our FT 3rd shifter is taking the following 2 weeks after that and a FT 1st shifter is taking the 2 weeks after that. My schedule for the next 2 weeks goes a little something like this:

Work 3rd shift on Sunday, off for two days, work 1st shift, 2nd shift, 2 days of 3rd shift, off for one day, 3rd shift, off 1 day, 2nd shift, off for xmas day, 2nd shift then 3rd shift. Whew. This is soooo going to screw up my sleep but we are so broke right now with Adam not working full weeks due to the weather and now waiting for his unemployment to kick in at the end of the month that it’ll be worth it when we’re actually able to pay the rent in January.

Adam paid me a huge compliment Tuesday night. All summer I’ve been telling him how awful Blake can be. He gets into everything, doesn’t listen and talks back. There were days, especially during the time Adam worked out of town and wasn’t home, that I wanted to rip my hair out. All day on Tuesday I let Adam pretty much take care of Blake. I let him get mad when Blake got into the fridge AGAIN, when he made a big mess in his room, when he wouldn’t eat his dinner and would scream out, “NO!” when you ask him to do something. Finally, at the end of the night, when Blake was supposed to be in bed but got up for what seemed like the 15th time, Adam had had enough. Blake got scolded and I got a “I’m so sorry you’ve gone through this all summer. I don’t know how you did it.”

It’s ok. When I look back I wonder how I did it myself. I keep telling myself, “Someday he’ll be in school and I’ll miss these days with him.” Of course it’s easy to feel nostalgic AFTER he’s gone to bed and the day is done. During the day its more like Joan Crawford. You don’t really get that warm fuzzy feeling when you’re screaming out, “NO MORE WIRE HANGERS!” Or maybe you do, in which case you should consider therapy. And Xanax.