Weekend Report: Survival of the Less-than-Fittest

I'd like to blog about my weekend but I don't even know where to begin.

It was that bad.

I wish it wasn't the case-- my last blog entry was kind of depressing too, so it's always nicer when I can come back and write something entertaining and positive. Given enough time and perspective, maybe I could make the last couple of days something we could laugh about together. But though I am feeling much better today, I still can't laugh about it. Not yet.

Saturday started out normal. The morning was low key-- M had spent the night at my sister's house, which meant that it had been a tad less chaotic Friday night. The kids slept in late, and after Terence got home from helping some new ward members move into their house, we got to sit and chat for a little while we were both on our computers.

Then I noticed something that has become all-too-familiar over the years. Something not welcome at all at this point in time-- a contraction. I'm only 22 weeks pregnant. Then I proceeded to have several more throughout the morning. They weren't painful, but they were noticeable, and I definitely had more than the "3 within a hour" they tell you is a warning sign for premature labor. I convinced myself that they were just Braxton-Hicks and took my kids as planned up to my parents' house to go swimming with my dad. It was a much needed break, and I had not a single contraction the whole time we were up there. Being in the pool seemed to calm everything back down.

But it wore me out. Two hours of being K's personal pool guard was exhausting. Then on the drive home we got to travel through a spectacular monsoon storm-- dust sheets, spurts of heavy rain, and a blazing lightning show. It required some serious concentration just to keep our car on the road because of the strong winds. The older kids were oblivious in the back seat, but B was near panicking-- which raised my tension level just by listening to her.

When we finally got home, it was nearly 9 pm. By the time I got the kids into bed, I was completely and absolutely drained.

(And yes, I was having contractions again.)

But the kids were HYPER. Not willing to sleep at all. The boys were just revved up. B kept hearing the thunder from the storm and was unwilling to stay in her room. M was not willing to stay in her room without B. And K was refusing to stay in his crib at all. All I wanted to do was relax with a library book and try to get the stupid contractions to stop. I locked K in the boys' room by himself, told J and Bryson to sleep in the living room, and sent the girls back to their room. Then I sat in my rocking chair and tried to read and relax again.

Next thing I knew, I had the girls in my room whining that J was spitting water all over them and their beds, Bryson had wandered in behind, and then J dashed into the room and told me that K was sticking his head in the toilet.

What followed wasn't pretty. Let's just say I completely lost my cool. I'll leave it at that.

And when I got to the other side of the house, it was to find my two year old had been let out of his room, and by his dripping wet hair I could see that he had indeed dipped his head into the toilet.

If I had had any more cool to lose, I would have lost it then too. But all I can explain was that I blew right past that into sheer extreme craziness. I literally had to rein myself back in or I would have hurt somebody. It was terrifying. Utterly terrifying that I had let myself get so out of control that I could have hurt one of my precious kids.

The thought sobered me up quickly. I got K cleaned up and changed, sat with J and gave him a stern lecture on not spitting and NOT letting his baby brother out of the room when he was safely locked in, followed that with an apology for my out-of-control behavior and a reminder to all my kids that I loved them. Everyone except B pretty much went to bed right after that. I think I scared the hyperness right out of them.

But then being the hormonally unbalanced pregnant woman that I am, I went into an emotional tailspin. I cried a lot that night. I read my entire library book trying to escape the awful negative thoughts in my head but still didn't get tired enough to sleep. When Terence eventually came to bed, I was completely unhinged, unable to stop crying because I was so certain that I was the worst mother ever and that I never should have had kids in the first place. I kept thinking that this baby girl I'm carrying right now deserved so much better. It was not pretty. No matter what my husband said to try to comfort me, I couldn't believe it.

Finally, the tears ran out about 5:00 am. Terence finally got to sleep, but I couldn't. I was SO tired, but every time I dozed off I would wake up in a start because I couldn't breathe with my nose so clogged up. I ended up sitting in a chair, trying to rest a little. Finally, my nose was back to normal at about 6 am. I got to sleep for one hour before it was time to get up and start getting all five kids ready for church.

Sunday was miserable because I was beyond exhausted, mentally limp, and you guessed it, the contractions started up again. Terence got called out for work in the middle of church and I had to some how deal getting all the kids home and fed lunch before I crashed on my bed, unable to function any longer. I have vague memories of Terence coming home to find me sprawled on the bed with K sitting next to me, poking at my face and pulling my hair. (It didn't bother me. It kept me from fully sleeping, but I knew that at least he was not playing in the toilet.)

Fortunately we got to go to dinner at my parents' house, celebrating Terence's and my niece Jaci's birthdays. (I had made Terence's cake, finishing it in a haze on Sunday afternoon. It looked funny but tasted pretty good. Not bad for a cake made under such trying circumstances). The contractions didn't quit, but it was nice to eat a decent meal and rest.

Long as the weekend was though, it did eventually end. Last night we got the kids to bed without any fights and I got a long, restful night of sleep. I woke up about 10 am this morning, in a much better mood and with no contractions going on at all. (Thanks to my wonderful husband who took over when the kids woke up this morning.)

Best part of all? We all survived!