Thursday, February 3, 2011

If you're looking for sunshine, look away. LOOK AWAY!

I literally cannot stop shaking my head. Left, right, left, right....I shrug. I look around as if something somewhere is going to give me SOME clue on how to get through. Or maybe, if I tilt my head and squint my eyes everything will become clear. Like, what did I do to deserve some catastrophic dose of karma?

I'm being dramatic. At least it will appear that way to anyone reading who isn't me today. And maybe even tomorrow when I'm hopefully not on the brink of snapping like a frayed rubber band I'll say, 'Jeez Carrie, what a drama queen'. But not today. I am allowing myself these 10 minutes of self pity. PURE SELF PITY. Because I fear, if I don't write this out I may eat the tub of leftover Halloween candy that (YES) is still tucked away in the pantry.

I'm here because for the last 5 hours, I've been either shielding myself and my work laptop from flying tinker toys or chasing around a 3 year old pink eye infested bundle of energy trying to get one drop of antibiotic in each eye without him squinting or crying them out in a horrible flailing fit.

Let's go back.

Yesterday was Day 2 of close. For all non-finance or accounting nerds, this is that crucial time of the month. That deadline infested, balancing act of a time where on Day 2 in particular I have to squeeze around 15 hours of work into 8. Or 10 if I'm lucky to have Sean available to pick up the kids. Well, yesterday was one of those unlucky days where I needed to do it in 8. And hahahahahahahahahaha. Didn't happen.

Of course I went in with every intention of rock starring it out, but as the hours ticked by (faster than normal) and by noon I was sweating. I was WAY behind. All those little things that can hold things up happened. And when I panic, I make stupid little mistakes that take extra time. And at 3, when I knew I was in trouble the head shaking started. And then the phone rang.


Me: 'This is Carrie'

Daycare Employee: 'Hello, Carrie. This is _____ from Ian's School. He just woke up from nap and we are all pretty confident he has pink eye in both eyes.'

Me: 'Well, that's interesting. I imagine you need me to pick him up asap and he probably can't return to school until Friday' (thinking internally that OMG I have to leave early on day 2 and stay home on day 3) HEAD SHAKE HEAD SHAKE.

Daycare Employee: 'Yes, that's right. I'm sorry but pink eye is highly contagious. I'll keep him here with me at my desk until you arrive.'

I gather my belongings, grab my computer and against better judgement refrain from hitting the restroom before I leave and head out. Fast forward to 1 hour and 45 minutes later to me, STILL ON MY WAY TO GET IAN as I sit on I-5 and crawl towards a looming over-turned semi with a painful reminder that not using the restroom was by far the worst possible mistake I've ever made, ever.

It's now 5 o'clock. I'm across town and late to pick up Alex and I still have to stop at the pharmacy and I'm still SHAKING. MY. HEAD.

With Sean tied up at work until 10 there was no hope for me starting any work until the kids were in bed. Well, until the kids were in bed and they got out of bed and back into bed and out of bed and back into bed because, why wouldn't they? This was the PUNISH CARRIE FOR SOMETHING SHE HAS NO IDEA WHAT SHE DID DAY.

Fast forward to today.

Despite staying up until midnight to complete work, and getting an early start this morning I am floundering. How does one complete work with a child bouncing from couch to chair screaming, 'Mom-let's play', 'Mom-I need a snack', 'Mom-I just poo'd, can you wipe me?' HEAD SHAKE HEAD SHAKE.

I sit here with a pile of work to do, in a FILTHY house lacking enough of anything to make dinner tonight, and a load of laundry rotting in the washer since Tuesday. It becomes apparent to me that 5 years later, I'm still trying to figure out this 'working mom' thing. What I've learned is, it's possible as long as I give in to the entire core of my being. That tiny disappearing core that thrives on order, and cleanliness and productivity. That core of me that likes to give things 110% is sort of flat lined at maybe 50%. I've learned that you really only can spread yourself so thin and today, like that last little scraping from the peanut butter jar you hit a point where it's just gone.

So now, if you will excuse me I will put closure on this pity party and head off to find the antibiotic drops Ian has hidden from me because my eyes are now red and burning. But not before I leave you with a photo. You got to love him right?

Sidenote: the black front tooth is not a symptom of 'pink eye'. It is indeed a black tooth from a nasty face bump on a tunnel slide. Root canal to follow next week. HEAD SHAKE HEAD SHAKE.