Thursday, February 18, 2010

The Winter of our discontent

I give you fair warning that I am seething with hormones today. This state of being always predisposes me to irritability and ease of offense.

And in that condition, I contemplate all the ways in which I am "so over" living in my shoebox apartment. Today I am finding a long list of unbearables.

The Captain puking through the night + laundromat hours posted 9am-9pm. I must wait until everyone is awake and sleep-deprived-ornery to attempt to begin damage control? I say attempt, because escaping the apartment into the abyss is often achieved only to find that laundry wars are in full-force and I will have to time things just-right to get a machine.

Having both boys in the same bedroom, period. With the way the Captain sleeps (or doesn't sleep), this is significantly shortening my life span.

Having about 1.5 square feet of counter space, with no dishwasher, disposal, or windows in my kitchen. It doesn't take much imagination to see how that could get old. (And I'd rather have a disposal than a dishwasher, if it came down to it)

Having to go for a 5-10 minute walk to take out the trash.

Having parking-spot anxiety, particularly in the ice/snow. Parking-spot anxiety combined with trying to unload groceries and bring kids inside from the car is ugly.

But what's really (really) chapping my hide today is how this space is affecting the boys lately. With no safe designated outdoor space, and so little space to play inside, the stir-craziness peaks 5 or 6 times daily. The toy-clutter and dumping become ritualistic, and I inevitably become the mom that yells.

I think there are some families that can thrive in close quarters, but we are not one of them. With boys whose personalities are as big as all outdoors, we need space to keep from eroding each other.

Playing outside (even in bad weather) is like a drug for Sir O; it has a miraculous effect on his demeanor. But especially since we were recently informed (by police) that a convicted sex-offender has moved into our apartment complex, Sir O can only play outside when someone can keep a close and constant eye on him. And there's only one of me, you know.

A lot of people have told me how much they missed/think I am going to miss Dental school. There are a few small things I know I will miss, but by and large I think I've had a very different experience from most. Especially toward the end I've had a tiny support system, almost no playmates for Sir O, a budget so tight that anything with a cost is a moot point, seasonal depression (hello February), and a husband with consistent, relentless 11-hour "workdays". (I say all that through my hormone-colored glasses)

I am so ready to move on.

3 months.

Somehow that's both a terribly long and a reasonably short amount of time.

This too shall pass.


Tracy M said...

It shall pass... but that doesn't get you through the days. I know. I understand. Not in the exact same way, but I understand anyway.

Love you to bits.

Deena said...

I'm sorry about your suck. And hormones are not helpful when you're the one that has to hold it all together.

Maybe you need something rich and delicious to eat. What can I say? I'm a comfort eater.

hairyshoefairy said...

((hugs)) Yep. I've been there and it sucks. You're so close to the end and March is right around the corner. Then right around the corner from that is moving time. Then when you are having a crap-ola day you can bring your kids over and we can let them tear the house and yard apart while we commiserate. I'm sorry hormones are exacerbating everything that's weighing you down. It's hard when you feel like you're hanging by your last string and there's still 3 more months to go but you're strong and you can do it. I hope you can feel more on top of things tomorrow.

hairyshoefairy said...

P.S. I'm liking the blog redesign. Maybe it's time for me to update mine.

Angela said...

I have to tell you how much I'm smiling right now reading your post. Not because your stress amuses me, but only because I remember that time and those feelings all too well. It seemed the bigger my kids got the smaller the apartment got. I think you are dead on! I do look back on dental school with fondness and I miss miniscule amounts of it (mainly the friendships), but mostly I like life much better today. Hang in there! I wish you a much bigger living space and a sex-offender free neighborhood ASAP! (What's the plan by the way? Where are you headed?)

aLi said...

yeah, I'd throw in the towel if I were you!!! Comfort eating works for me. Also a phone call to a family member or friend while the kids harass each other works for me, too. :) Good luck, Em.

Aby Runyan said...

You have EVERY single bit of sympathy in my ENTIRE body. I've never been through husband schooling of that type - and your experience sounds, well awful.

In our ward there are a bunch of medical/dental students and, frankly, they've got it made. Just the fact that they can TURN DOWN babysitting offers (because they have SO many people who can sit for free) blows my mind.

I would NEVER EVER have been able to survive your situation. Just the no dishwasher/disposal thing gives me the heebie-jeebies.

BUT. . . and you can take this with a grain of salt if you so please. It is so very true that that which does not kill you makes you stronger. THAT I do know from experience.

After this, you should start calling yourself superwoman.

For reals.

luvs, aby

Em said...

Just because I complained today Renn had a 12.5 hour day. I stand with my foot shot by myself.

The Hodges Family said...

Youre doing good Em....hang in there...But yikes I feel for you! You are a strong woman and I admire everything you do and dont do =) Sending lots of love....

pepper said...

I hear you and get it. And you are so very lucky to have an end date in sight... I just keep hoping with no end in sight. Also as you know it could be worse, I suffer from all of that and worse... my two babies sleep in the entryway... no bedroom at all... ahhh tight city living.

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