Seeking Stress Relief

Yesterday I was so tired -- I mean seriously sleep deprived. To the point that my brain wasn't working right and I felt almost physically ill. It peaked in the late afternoon when Mabel got home and I was torn in three different directions on top of my blood sugar dipping. I managed to bring myself out of it, with the help of an apple to bring my blood sugar back up, but I knew I really needed a good night's sleep.

I sort of got one. I went to bed early while Hubby stayed up trying to wear out the puppies. He told me not to worry about them and he'd take care of them for the night. At 2:40 a.m. I awoke to them whimpering and nudged Hubby. "The puppies are crying."

After a pause, in a half asleep voice he asked, "Are you awake?" Which in Male-ese means "I'm too tired to get up; will you do it?"

So I got up and got them outside. I managed to get back to sleep after that and got up for good at 4:45 to take them out again and then get to the gym. Afterwards I got home, showered and dressed, and went into the bedroom to find Hubby still sleeping. I knew he was going to California University of Pa. today to be a judge in some science fair thing, but I didn't know he didn't have to leave the house until 8 a.m. (he usually leaves at 6:30).

"Well, that's poopy," I blurted out.

"What is?" he queried from his bundle of sheets and comforter.

"That I had to get up in the middle of the night, and you're the one who gets to sleep in," I replied, then left the room to get on with my morning chores.

On top of this, at the end of last week he agreed to become the statistician for his high school's baseball team. While he doesn't have to go to practices, he does have to attend the games. Last night's game was postponed due to the rain, but now he's got games scheduled for tonight, Wednesday and Friday. Which means he won't be home until 7 p.m. those nights. And this will go on until May.

I knew this was going to happen. I pretty much figured this would be how it would work if we had a baby, too, which is why I've pretty much stated I will not be having any more children. While he'd be full of promises about how much he was going to help, there'd always be some excuse -- too sleepy, too busy -- to hold up his end of the deal.

So, as I feared, I'm doing the bulk of the "dirty" work -- cleaning up poop piles in the yard, cleaning up the accidents on the kitchen floor, cleaning poopy shoes after Mabel walks into a fresh pile. I was already prepared for afternoon duty, but now I'll have a lot of evening duty, too.
Of course, don't forget that I also generally do 90 percent of the general housework and childcare duties.

Now don't get me wrong; the puppies are adorable and I enjoy playing with them. I don't think I could bring myself to get rid of them now, because I've grown attached to them and they definitely are bonding with me.

But I'm just feeling overtaxed right now, and I feel I'm taking the brunt of the responsibility when it comes to the dogs. Things will calm down eventually; the dogs will grow, as will their bladders, and they won't need as much babying. And come summer time Hubby will be home to take the reigns as the primary puppy parent while I'm off at work.

The biggest problem I guess is readjusting our lives to this big change. I had to give Mabel hell this morning because she didn't do her homework last night; she told me she had done it, but when I peeked at her homework journal this morning I realized she couldn't have done her dictation practice by herself. So I sent her to her father, who was lounging around watching TV and eating his P0P Tartz, to help her with her homework while I was rushing around trying to get myself and Mabel ready for our day, clean up the kitchen and get the puppies set for their morning cooped up in the kitchen.

On top of this, the new puppies have stirred up the whole in-law thing and they've been finding excuses to drop over every single night. Months ago I made the "call first" rule, which seems to have been partially abandoned. Monday night's excuse was that they were exchanging vehicles with Hubby because they were taking his SUV to be serviced. This couldn't be a simple key exchange; they stopped by 15 minutes before Mabel's bedtime (which is one of their worst habits) and proceeded to sit down and "chat" for the next half an hour. On Tuesday they did try to call, but we were outside and didn't get to the phone. Five minutes later here they come; they decided to take a "walk" and conveniently had to walk past our house. Of course they stopped, came into the house and "chatted" some more.

To be fair, my mother's been stopping over a good bit more, too. But her visits don't come at Mabel's bedtime, they're generally brief and don't require a lot of entertaining.

I know MIL doesn't think I'm a good hostess; she made sure that I found out about her raving about my sister-in-law and what a wonderful hostess she is. When they visit their youngest son and his wife, SIL brews a pot of coffee and bakes them muffins. I don't make them coffee and muffins; Hubby and I don't drink coffee, and I'm certainly not preparing baked goods when I'm trying to watch what I eat! It comes down to this: they know darn well that Mabel's bedtime is 8 p.m., yet they consistently show up at 7:30, 7:45. Sorry, my daughter's routines come first.

Gee, I sound kind of stressed out, don't I? Coincidentally I've got therapy with Dr. K. today, which will come in very handy to get this off my chest some more. The good news is I'm not letting the stress drive me to overeat; my Monday-Friday rule is so ingrained that it isn't even feeling like an option for me. It may all culminate in a binge this weekend, but with this routine in place the damage is limited and controlled. For now I'm trying to use other methods to blow off steam: exercise, reading, taking a nap, blogging. Maybe if I can do enough of this kind of stuff throughout the week, by the time the weekend comes it won't be such a blow-out.