The old saying goes, "It takes a village to raise a child." The attorney in me looks at this statement and says, "Hmmmm...." I think it's possible to raise a child or children without the village but last night proved what I already knew: it may be possible without the village but having a village to help sure is nice!
Our weekend started on Friday really because Scott had the day off because the moving company was delivering our stuff. Let me point something out: we have not had our stuff for more than 9 months now. Four days after the girls were born we packed up a lot of their stuff, a bag of clothes we figured I'd wear for the next 6 weeks (till my postpartum appointment), a bag for Scott, and took off for Lee's Summit. Since then we'd gone back to Belvitucky a handful of times and exchanged out clothes, grabbed a few more things, but never had a full wardrobe or used or house to it's fullest. We packed everything up (ok, the moving company did most of it which I fought and wish I would've done more...) at the end of November and finally got all of our stuff to our new house now!
I hate clutter. I have OCD. Things have to be in certain places otherwise it causes me anxiety. We joke about it but underneath the joking Scott, my parents, and I all know what's going on: I'm about to lose it. So 102 boxes packed by the movers (not clearly labeled, not packed in any way that would make ANY sense what so ever) plus all of our furniture, and the boxes/tubs I had packed, all totaling 256 items, plus some not marked, showed up Friday to clutter our house that is still being worked on. Bring on the anxiety.
Friday afternoon after the movers left I got started unpacking the nursery and our office. I ended the day frustrated. The brand new cribs, that the girls have never used, were dinged up, I can't find some of the stuff for their room, they assembled the cribs wrong (I already fixed), and the movers dented the freshly painted and repaired wall. The things I can't find were packed by the movers and despite climbing through the boxes in the garage, I still can't find anything that is labeled nursery items. Same goes for most of our office stuff. I realized it was going to be a long process.
Saturday I woke up at 3 am with Ellie Jo (she always wakes up then and wants to be held) and felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't even stand without feeling incredibly naesuous. Not the way to get a good day of unpacking boxes in... At the house I didn't get much done but Dad and Scott did. It's difficult to do anything, even healthy, while trying to manage 2 infants. They are out of the sit and be content stage so it's a game of constantly watching them, especially Charlie who is a quick lil mover!
Sunday I felt better and tackled the kitchen. I felt frustrated at the end of this day too. I've made my feelings about our kitchen clear: I hate it. The cabinets are all screwed up (in terms of installation and design/storage purpose) and we don't have a pantry. Yes, we could buy a free standing pantry. Did I mention I hate clutter? I fear that a pantry would clutter the area up so I'm waiting to see what everything looks like once the boxes are cleared out, the table is moved in, and 2 highchairs are sitting in the dining area. I think it's an anxiety attack waiting to happen.
Then comes Sunday night... Charlie fought going to sleep and wouldn't take her bottle which hasn't been abnormal during her sleep regression these last couple of weeks. But after an hour of Scott and I trying my mom asked if she could try and I said sure. 45 minutes in (gosh, she's a trooper!) we realized she was having trouble breathing so we gave Charlie some advil and switched her to the RnP so she'd be elevated. She finished her bottle and fell fast asleep. I was optimistic about the night.
At 11:35 I heard a loud, odd noise that woke me up. I turned to check on Charlie, found her awake and DRENCHED. Neither of the girls had ever puked before so it took me a minute to realize what had happened. I quickly got her up, got a change of clothes, and new night time things and took her to the bathroom so I didn't wake Ellie up. Once I got her cleaned I put her (smiling and happy as could be!) in the swing, got back into bed, turned on the monitor to watch/listen to her, and felt like I could fall back asleep when I heard something on the monitor. Then Scott told me Charlie puked again and she was soaked. This is when I brought in the village. I wasn't sure if there was anything else we could do or where to put the puke machine (all of our other sleep options are at our new house) and I was nervous to put her in bed with me. But at Mom's suggestion, I covered her part of the bed (ok, 3/4 of the bed!) with towels, stripped all the parts of the swing, put everything in the washing machine and laid down with my once again clean and happy child. She puked 10 minutes later on a towel but luckily it was small.
By 2 am I was back asleep only to be woke up by Ellie Jo at 2:45. She wasn't a fan of being in the crib by herself and she has a nasty cough that was keeping her awake. So at 3:31, knowing my parents alarm goes off at 3:30 and that they LOVE having the girls in the morning (or any time of the day... they did take them both to the grocery store yesterday!) I knocked on their door and dropped her off. They got her to sleep sometime before 5 am and put her back in her crib and the 3 of us slept till 7 am.
I feel like I've been hit by a bus though.
I'm hoping the puking is done, Ellie's cough subsides, and that I can take a nap this afternoon.
But I'm very thankful for the village (aka my parents!) for helping us. They are definitely a huge help for us!
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