Last week was a rough week for us. My husband worked nights, which was good and bad. I loved having him home in the morning, because he stayed home with the babies, while I took the big kids to preschool. He was also home when I had to go back to get them, so I didn't have to hurry to feed the babies their lunch and then rush out the door to pick the big kids up, like I usually do (I have already decided to put the big kids in public Kindergarten next year, mostly due to the fact that the bus stop for the elementary school is literally in front of my house. I have to be careful not to run over small children every morning when I pull out of my parking spot. You have no idea how excited I am about the location of this bus stop now that we will be able to use it).
Four out of the six of us ended up with pink eye last week, so I spent a lot of time sanitizing the house and putting eye drops in screaming children. My husband made three trips to the doctor, once for Bear, once for himself, and once to take the babies to the ER. It was a long week for both of us.
The worst part for me was he was not home at night (except for Friday) and nights around here are hectic. Baby Girl gets really fussy as I am making dinner, so I usually end up wearing her. Baby Boy wasn't feeling all that well last week, due to the pink eye and was fussy too, but I can only wear one while I am cooking and I haven't been able to figure out how to get him in the Ergo, so I wear her.
Anyway, my point is, nights here are crazy. I have no idea how single mothers survive.
Night one, without my husband, goes pretty well. Night two a little bit harder. Night three, I start yelling. Night four, I yell more. So he worked nights all week last week, except Friday. I was stressed out about the pink eye, on top of being alone in the evenings with four small children, and now this week he is out of town. Last Friday, I called my MIL and asked her to come help me this week.
She lives in Michigan.
It is a nine hour drive.
She said she would come (I love her).
In the end, we decided I can handle three more nights without help. So far, I have made it through night two and I am not craving alcohol yet and the worst thing that happened is Belly gave herself a shiner. The second worst thing that happened was Bear got paint all over the back of his pants and then sat on the sofa, so I had to shampoo the sofa, when were supposed to be eating dinner. The good news is that most of it came out (there will forever be a red mark that wouldn't come out) and Bear finally showed some interest in art.
One more night to go.