We have Moved

Come and visit the new site, Bumbles & Light.

Fun with Scheduling!

Alright so it's not fun. I've been fighting schedules for as long as I can remember and I am not even really sure why. Even when I was at university my school schedule was all over the place. My work schedule was worse. It's not easy to schedule in classes and studying as well as 2 part time jobs (one for 30 hours a week max in the day and one for 20 hours a week in the evening). But when you're horribly overworked it's kind of ok to be like that, you're just always busy and being constantly busy is your schedule.

Now I'm a Stay at Home Mum my schedule doesn't feel any less busy. I have a toddler to run around after and a household to manage. I may be actively doing less than before, but it's more overwhelming, perhaps because the majority of things I have to do are fairly monotonous and because Mikey is quite the force to be reckoned with. Forget irate customers (or indeed irate, drunk customers at the liquor store... fun!), deadlines, moody bosses and grouchy professors, a cranky toddler is the most unreasonable creature I've ever had the pleasure of dealing with.

Although I dislike the label because it feels as though I'm trying to pin him down, Mikey was a textbook case of the "High needs" baby. He is now of a similar disposition as a toddler. Some days I end up pulling my hair out, (maybe rocking back and forth slightly too, like a crazy person) repeating to myself "God doesn't give you more than you can handle, God doesn't give you more than you can handle, Goddoesn'tgiveyoumorethanyoucanhandle..." You get the idea. When we leave him with a sitter (which is VERY rare) we don't call to see if he's ok, we call to see if the sitter is ok.

This week I have a sore throat from yelling (I know, bad bad mummy. I am a yeller, what can I say? I know it doesn't help) and a headache from listening to constant screaming. "Oh he couldn't possibly scream ALL day". Ok he doesn't scream when he's sleeping, or when he's eating, or when he's just doing the "lay-on-the-floor-because-nobody-loves-me" emo whine. On Tuesday he started to lose his voice in the afternoon. For a baby that stopped breathing on his first night in the world he sure has a fine set of lungs on him now. Judging by this, we think he will make a fine singer for a hardcore band.

So the dreaded schedule it is. Apparently intense toddlers need a more structured schedule than "normal" toddlers to help them feel secure and at ease. Apparently, despite my own protests, a schedule would help me get more things done too. We already have a bedtime schedule, he's been on it for a few months now and he loves it. He's even started doing parts of it on his own, he likes to know what is coming next. I need to suck it up and stick to this.

***

And he woke up from his nap. This afternoon was much calmer, not without incident though. Tomorrow is a new day (and I'm going to the flea market, ALONE, hurrah!).

Post a Comment

Please do not use the blogger comment form to leave a comment as no one will be able to see it! Please use the intense debate form above.

I am a 24 year old British stay at home mother to a two year old boy. Married to a U.S. soldier and currently living in Germany.

I have seen the Vatican from the very top of St Peter's Basilica, the mud in the World War I trenches outside Ypres. I have walked through Montmartre side streets bustling with people in the evening, gotten lost in the streets of Greenwich Village NYC, run through cornfields on the Welsh border and sat outside with a cup of tea watching fireflies in the fields of the outer Chicago suburbs.

I have held the hands of others through addiction, fear, suicide, despair and come out the other side. I have left everything behind to begin anew.
I have fought mental illness and walked through snow in the mountains of the lake district, England. I have explored the morgue in the bowels of an abandoned hospital on a summer evening, climbed to the top of scaffolding on the outside of a five floor warehouse to look at the city lights of Nottingham at night and I have watched the sun setting on the Texas horizon.

I have held my son's tiny hand through the plastic window on an isolette in the NICU ward. Walked, speaking only in whispers, through the catacombs beneath the ground on the outskirts of Rome and seen the fireworks over Heidelberg castle.

Photobucket