Friday, March 12, 2010

Trying not to sound like a spoiled brat...

I'm having a hard time adjusting to Richie's new job. We have one car. He got a company car at his last job four days out of the week. I planned my life around those four days. I did my grocery shopping, I took the kids swimming, I got a majority of my workouts in at the gym. The other three days were spent hunkering down, cleaning, hanging out with the kids at home. And most of the time Richie was home on some of those days. Now there is no company car.

I've done this before. So I thought it wouldn't be a big deal. Well, I was wrong. I'm getting bitter. I'm grateful, I really am. The worst thing that happened in all this is that we had to drain our vacation fund. It's not the first time & it won't be the last. No big deal. If he has a decent spring at work we'll still have a shot at making the UP at the end of the summer. But I'm still on the verge of losing my mind. I'm here all day. Then Richie comes home and crashes. The latest I've seen him with his eyes open this last week has been 8. That's an hour before the kids go to bed. That's right when I'm cleaning up dinner, bathing the kids, reading them books, and getting them into bed. I'm not mad at Richie, or trying to imply that he isn't pulling his weight. He works hard. He demolishes and carries, and lifts. He does good old traditional blue collar work 10+ hours a day.

Maybe it doesn't help that both the kids are sick, and I'm not feeling too great either. I'm getting up twice a night to do breathing treatments, give medicine, give comfort. Then I wake up to two miserably irritable children who fight over everything, cry over things they would usually brush off, but feel well enough to bounce off the walls like rubber during the day. Meanwhile I want to cry. There is no where to go. If Richie works overtime, most of the places I need (notice need, not want) to go are closed. The other day I had to force feed Tristan infant Tylenol and then watch him gag because we were out of Meltaways. But I refused to let him crumple up at the end of the hallway and sob because he felt so crappy. Buying a car is not going to happen, affording the insurance would be a stretch. So for now I'll feel like I'm 16 again. I'll call on my mom and my best friend when it's absolutely necessary, so that they don't get sick of me.

So here's hoping I get into a groove, and I get used to it. There I feel better. I ranted.

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