I am so tired, physically and emotionally. This week has been crazy. Chris has worked every day, for which I am grateful. They are working on a specific project, so he’s been there until 8 PM. That means he’s been getting home around 9 PM. Even in a household full of night owls, that’s been a strain. While “extra” money is welcome, there are no guarantees. The project is due today, so they could cut Chris’ hours tomorrow to save money. They could even nix the whole day. In that case, rather than the overtime he so richly deserves (and which we desperately need), he could still end up short of a 40 hour week.
Avery freaked out at bedtime again last night, and I ended up dragging her into the living room so that Chris could get at least some sleep. She screamed like a banshee. She was smart enough to take breaks to preserve her strength, so she was able to scream and flail for about 45 minutes straight. Normally I wince when she does this. Last night I was so tired and resigned I just stared while she screamed. I tried to comfort her, but she was having none of it. She wanted back in the bed, which would have been perfect if sleep was on her agenda. I refused to even turn on the TV; I don’t want her to be rewarded for having a fit. Today she slept in, so we missed a group playdate – a social opportunity for both of us. I was so frustrated.
Braeden had a swim lesson, so I had to get all of us together and out the door. The good news: Braeden was able to watch her so that I could shower. Amazing kid. What do parents with two kids close in age do? God, I love him. He saves me. The bad news: I forgot to move the car for street cleaning, which has become a $45 ticket. I was so angry at myself… I am used to Chris moving the cars. Also, if we had made the playdate it wouldn’t have been an issue. In my world, $45 is more than an annoyance; it’s a catastrophe. I feel like an idiot. I was already lamenting being unable to contribute to the Toad the Wet Sprocket Kickstarter campaign… I was even trying to justify a small contribution. There went that. I feel terrible.
I was trying to explain my feelings about not being able to participate in the campaign to several people. I know the band would understand, and certainly wouldn’t want me to spend money I don’t have. It’s not about how they – or anyone else – perceives me. Toad is my favorite band, period. No other band comes close. I have met most of my SoCal friends (and even many in other states) through my love for Toad. Their music, along with the music of their lead singer, Glen Phillips, means more to me than I could conceivably express. To be unable to join in with the rest of the fans and be a part of this actually hurts me. It’s… I just can’t explain it. I love them, and wish I could put my wallet where my heart is. My wallet is empty, though, even if my heart is overflowing. It’s hard to take.
Avery is napping in her old carseat, which she calls her boat, at my feet as I type this on my Nook. That’s right, folks. One letter at a time. I will write, no matter what. Because I need to, and because it helps.