Oh, Internets. You know things are bad when you write a blog post because you can think of nowhere else to do your boo-hooing. (Mom & Dad will worry, I don’t want to be That Whiner on Facebook, I don’t want to call someone just to whine…you know.)
But…I’m in a bad place.
Baby Bear and I went to visit my parents for two whole weeks over Christmas (Wilbur joined us for 8 days, but had to work for part of the time we were there.). It was lovely. We got lots of rest, wore short sleeves a lot of the time, spent time with my sister and her family, thoroughly enjoyed my parents, and just had a ball.
And then we came home. And the house is so cluttered it makes me feel like I’m losing my mind. And I started puking on New Year’s Eve and everyone in the family has been sick ever since – like, REALLY sick. And Wilbur and I are fighting (basically over what a wuss he is when he gets sick. There’s no way he has something different than I do, but he has stayed in bed for 3 days while I’ve gotten up and cared for our busy toddler and done other house things, all while very pregnant, and it infuriates me so much that I threw the D word out into last night’s argument.). And we had to put our cat to sleep on January 2, and I feel horribly guilty about the couple days he was alive – particularly his last night. He slept outside, in below freezing temps, because nobody realized he was out there. The vet assured me that he would have been fine if he need not already been old and sick, but i just want to cry and cry when I think about finding him the next morning, cuddled between a hydrangea bush and the wall, breathing but not moving. Okay, I don’t want to cry and cry – I actually do cry and cry. When I took him to the vet, his body temp was so low that it didn’t even register on her thermometer. And his heartbeat was so slow, she said he only had a couple hours left in him, and although we could rush him to an emergency animal hospital, she personally thought the more humane thing to do would be let him go peacefully and painlessly. And so we did. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to let go of the sadness and guilt that comes with knowing he didn’t spend his last night cuddled in bed with me.
And on top of all this, Baby Bear’s upset tummy is so bad that his accompanying diaper rash makes him cry when I change his diaper (and makes me cry, too).
And from the looks of things on the video monitor, it appears that he is boycotting his nap today (my guess is the upset tummy is to blame for this).
So. In other words, I and my family are falling apart.
i know that this will pass. And I know I lead a pretty charmed life. And I feel like a brat for boo hooing over all this stuff when there are so many people whose tragedies are so much worse, but oh, boy, does this feel so big and awful right now to me.
and that’s that. I’ll write again when I’m less pathetic.