I figure shaving my head will keep me from pulling all my hair out from frustration. Trying to run errands with a 22-month-old and a 6-month-old is a frigging Broadway production. It's not all the stuff, because I don't take much with me when I go out. It's the getting out of and into the car that is the thing that causes me to just lose it - I'm normally a fairly sane woman (shut up!).
Mr. Fix-It (I love him, but good grief, is my husband ever a "Martian") was trying to "help" me by telling me how I needed to do everything. Listen to me, daggone it! I already know how to do it, I'm just telling you what freaks me out. Just say you hear me and you understand and then SHUT UP! I know someone whose two-year-old was hit and killed in a church parking lot. A good friend of my sister's (an adult man) was recently hit by a 17-year-old who, reports say, was driving entirely too fast for the area -- and it is solely by the grace of God that Jay's 4-year-old wasn't the one who was hit. It would've killed the little one if it had been him. The thought that my toddler could jerk away from me and run in front of a car obviously scares the living daylights out of me. It's become an obsessive thought, more so over the past week since Jay's accident - and since I've been diagnosed by a psychiatrist as OCD - it doesn't take much for something to become obsessive for me. (Okay, so I now officially take back the "I'm normally a fairly sane woman" comment...now will you shut up?!)
Now, my nursling has finally nursed herself to sleep, big sister is in her bed asleep and Dad just got out of the shower and hit the bed. Since he and I went on a date tonight, I think I'll close this blog entry and join him ;-)
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