Maudlin title, yes. But I promise I'm not maudlin or morbid or even relatively depressed today. Although, truth be told, if I really put my mind to it I could probably come up with a great case of anxiety.
One of my triggers (as I'm calling them, anyway) is the state of the kitchen. I don't care about crumbs or messy floors in there, but I care about the dishes situation. If it's a single day of dishes or just a couple things, it doesn't concern me. But if there are dishes on the counter, both sinks, and the stove I start to get a little frantic. My husband knows this, and he agreed to a schedule as to who is responsible to do dishes each day of the week.
He didn't do them yesterday.
I came upstairs this morning at the ripe old hour of 0400 because M decided that he wanted to be awake and demanded that I feed him. I turn into the kitchen after doing some creative footwork around the toys that O has left scattered (she's an expert at making a mess) and notice that the supper dishes are just piled into the sink and on the counter. I sigh. I feed M and relax on the couch, thinking that I can get some sleep in before O wakes up. No such luck, as T has his alarm set to what I like to call "trying to get the people two units over to wake up" volume, which wakes up O in the process. So O comes upstairs, and then proceeds to cry and whine because I told her that we're not going to the slide/park at 0545. I figure that because T is still home, if I take the kids downstairs to our room he can help me get them dressed and I can also get dressed. Again, no such luck. He says he has time to change O's diaper, but that's it. M decides this is a great time to start fussing.
So I'm frantically getting O dressed, who is not helping at all because she is 3 and also she really wanted to go to the park and wants daddy to take her, and getting myself dressed and T just kind of backs out of the room and goes upstairs to get his lunch ready for work. As M is starting to pick up volume and I'm digging around for clothes, T asks if I want him to warm up another bottle. I call up yes please, and figure he's going to put the bottle on and then leave.
Nope. We come upstairs and he faffs about for another 10 minutes or so. Seriously, husband? You're "running behind" so much that you can wander aimlessly for 10 minutes but can't help me get a toddler dressed while our infant is crying? Thanks.
Our morning did get better, in that I sat O down at the computer with some toast and a cup of water and M got another bottle. But M didn't nap in between the 0400 and 0630 feed, and so he was miserable. And then we went to Walmart to pick up some things before I dropped O off at daycare, so that was a nice adventure.
Anyway, back to the dishes.
I ran out of premade bottles (we make 6 at a time using the concentrated formula) around 1400, which meant that I needed to wash them. Which meant that I needed to clear the kitchen in order to do so. So I emptied and reloaded the dishwasher and washed the bottles. While technically today is my dishes day, I really should have only been doing the dishes that we used today.
This doesn't make me as frantic and concerned as it used to, like when I wasn't taking Zoloft. But I still don't like it. The entire drive to Walmart had me thinking about housework, which is where I was before meds.
As M has decided that his afternoon nap is going to be cut short, so will this post. Chat more later.
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