Tuesday Needs to Sit Down

“Just 15 more minutes, please”

That phrase was my alarm clock this morning, the first sounds my brain recognized uttered from my loving husband at 5:45 AM. My brain then quickly processed that this phrase was due to our now wide-awake toddler jumping on our bed. It was WAY too early for Tuesday. My subconscious begged and pleaded that it was a nightmare: Tuesday isn’t here yet, is it? Tuesday needs to sit down and wait a few more minutes.

If only the day (and my toddler) had a pause button.

Let me preface this by saying, Monday always kicks our butt; mostly because the weekends never seem restful. So Monday night is a sight for sore eyes usually. Why is that?

Well, my husband and I both work, full time, essentially 8-5. I say 8-5 because I usually drop off our son at 8 and get home with our son by 5 (actual work time is essentially 830-430). My husband leaves earlier and comes home a bit later. But Monday through Friday we wake up, get ready, drink as much coffee as needed, feed our dogs, get our son ready, and scramble out the door. When we return home after 5, we have to make dinner, feed ourselves, the dogs, and our child, and then clean up. At this point, it is 6PM, on a good day; 6:30-7 on a bad day. Now factor in laundry, grass needing cut, other chores (aka picking up our son’s toys for the millionth time), bath time, play time, until finally bed time for our son at 8:30. And that’s it, the day is practically gone. It has been non-stop since our eyes opened that morning.

Let me also mention that I am expecting baby #2, so factor in the “I am growing a tiny human in my belly” exhaustion, I can barely focus by 8:30 PM. Needless to say, a single chore (maybe two) gets accomplished per day. Long story short, weekends aren’t restful. Here are some of the reasons why:

1. I feel guilty for working 40 hours a week, so I want to spend as much time with my son going places and making up for a week of work.
2. We have other commitments like weddings and holidays and other festivities that keep us busy. (This one is the worst, hence my next blog post is dedicated this topic)
3. We have practically a weeks’ worth of chores to catch up on, in particular a trip to the grocery store and laundry.

So by the time we do all these things, Monday appears. Horrible, Awful, Monday and the cycle repeats. Over and over and over again.

Mondays also tend to be ROUGH because our son has “had” his mama and dada for two solid days. So the separation anxiety is FIERCE come Monday when we have to go to work and when Daddy and Mommy leave it is full on MELT DOWN mode. Let’s face it, it’s heart breaking and earth shattering every Monday even though I know it will happen. And it has only gotten worse as he starts to get older.

Well after a typically rough Monday, my husband and I were so guiltily happy, elated even, when bed time arrived last night. I put our son to bed after only a slight struggle. I thanked the heavens above all the way down the stairs with the baby monitor. I lasted five minutes before this mama felt the exhaustion kick in along with the Braxton hicks saying “get your butt to bed, lady.” So I kissed my husband who was watching television, apologized for not being able to stay up later with him, and zombie-walked myself upstairs to the bedroom. (Apologizing for being tired is the worst, but I do feel guilty).

After climbing into bed, despite the exhaustion, I spent at least a half hour thinking of the million things I didn’t get to that day and how that makes a million and one things to do the next. At some point, mid-thought or worry I am sure, I fell asleep.  At nearly 11PM, I woke up to my husband crawling into bed. Our son, as if he could sense us falling asleep again in the next room, began sobbing. As of late, it’s as if our son has learned to amp up his crying. He used to just cry and whimper (wah wah boo hoo), and now he will cry, cry, whimper, then shriek as if someone is trying to kill him (wah wah boo hoo AHHHHHH). It is the most terrible sound. My husband and I attempted to shut our eyes in hope our son would self-soothe back to bed.

After a few minutes of squeezing our eyes shut (as if we could block out the crying) my husband retrieved our son from the next room and placed him in the middle of the bed. Daddy was not happy.

Everyone who has a toddler knows sleeping with a toddler in the middle of the bed is not exactly relaxing or comfortable. You wake to every movement with worry or you wake because you are getting kicked, slapped, or punched. So it wasn’t the greatest night sleep. And when baby boy jolted awake at 5:45 AM babbling and jumping away like it was time to get up (when his usual awake time is close to 7:45)…. Well, Daddy was NOT happy. (Lets be honest, neither was Mommy who likes the morning as much as my husband likes spiders. (Hint: he HATES spiders)).

So our day started earlier than usual today. My husband did the dishes and a load of laundry and I finally got our child back to bed. Only for it to be time to head to work.

There isn’t enough coffee to save this day, and even if there was, I’m pregnant so I can’t drink it any way. Happy Tuesday, ya’ll.