Deja-Vu All Over Again

Remember how, in yesterday's post, I said I was going to turn my mood around and we were going to have a happy, heathly, and at least partially comfortable day?

Ha!

Well... it started out really well. I got a load of laundry in, I packed the kids up and we went to a park. Nick got to see one of his little friends, and he didn't fall asleep on the way home, so I had real hopes of his taking a nap and my getting a run in.

Unless the washer has a cycle where water is SUPPOSED to pool out onto the floor, I'm pretty sure our washer is broken. Our new washer, less than 2 years old. Which we replaced because water was pooling all over the floor. This is bad. I don't think anyone knows just how much laundry I do. I do a load practically every day. 5 or 6 loads a week. If I skip two days I end up with a disaster, where we run out of clothing or towels or sheets. So... I don't know what we will do.

Then Nick wouldn't nap. He played and played and played in his room, switching on lights, climbing in and out of the crib... and I just couldn't figure out WHY? He was exhausted at the park! I could hardly keep him awake at lunch! I was offering him time to rest! How could he spend 90 minutes bouncing off the walls? So I did what I said I'd never do just so I could get a run in. I took him downstairs to watch a Pooh video while I ran for 10 minutes.

NEVER RUN ON A TREADMILL WITH A CURIOUS TWO YEAR OLD IN THE ROOM! I belted him into a little chair, but it didn't matter. While I was running he either fell or stuck his hand on the treadmill and he scraped his hand and his arm. "Scraped" makes it sound so minor, and his arm is hardly hurt at all, but the skin came clean off part of his hand. It's awful. I know it's painful. I know it' my fault 100%, worse than dislocating his elbow because I never thought anything might happen by holding his hand, but I KNEW it was unsafe to use a treadmill with a child in the room. I considered going to the doctor, but I honestly... I feel like I've lost my ability to know what's doctor-worthy. I've called the doctor so many times to be told to just use a band-aid or give him Tylonol or use a humidifier... a broken arm is one thing, but a scrape that isn't bleeding, that is just really painful... well, what would they do?

I put a bandage on it and Neosporin and I gave Nick Tylonol. I decided to wach it, to make sure he starts using his hand, and that the sore spot doesn't get too red or inflammed. Then I got to go shopping with him, because we needed food so that we could actually eat. And of course Steve has been lecturing me and lecturing me ever since he got home, and I can't say I blame him... He's afraid I've become one of those women who drown their kids. What he doesn't understand is that I was trying to get a workout so I wouldn't BECOME one of those women who drown their kids. And it worked well, don't you think? So, so well? Can you just hear the sarcasm dripping off my fingers, onto the keyboard and into the internet space this blog occupies?

So much for my attempt at making things right. I just seemed to make them wronger. And... and... I guess I really don't have anything more to say. Except that, if the boys would just nap when they were supposed to then everything would be just FINE, but there's nothing I can do and I feel so helpless and frustrated and out of control of the events in my life and guilty for Nick being so hurt and I just wish we could stay in bed today and read.