So much seems to happen every day, even though nothing much really seems to happen. Does that make any sense? Anyways, this is going to be another brain-dump post.
The ladies and I ventured over to Melissa's house for an impromptu play-date on Tuesday. It was nice to do something like that after all my bitching and moaning about never seeing friends anymore. Both of our toddlers survived the two hours and maybe, just maybe!, we'll do it again real soon. Melissa's second babe is still so young, so she's deep in the middle of the whole "it's exhausting even thinking about leaving the house" mode. I am just barely on the other side of that emotion myself, but I think between us we can muster the energy. It can be so tiring to break up fights and say over and over "use your words! don't hit! look, another truck!" but I feel like if we don't keep getting them together, they will never learn how to work it out.
This morning I got super, amazingly ambitious and dragged the ladies out to not one, but TWO baby stores in search of the perfect double stroller. I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist, but that's another story for another day. Iris was a trooper for the most part, although, she is still two, so being a trooper still means plenty of tantrums and complete disregard for authority (which would be me, I think). Why do double strollers suck so much? I tried Iris in several of them and the front seats are all way too small for a monster-sized two and a half year old. I did spy some nicer ones, but those practically cost what we pay in rent every month. I would love to get a Phil and Ted's stroller (who wouldn't?) but I don't want to have to give up the girl's college funds for it, know what I mean? I threw a little hissy fit myself in Babies R Us. I was tired of chasing Iris through the store, but noticed they sell Seventh Generation diapers for cheaper than any other store I've been to. Since I am still up in the air on the whole cloth vs. paper thing, I decided we needed to purchase a pack. When I finally drag Iris to the check out line there was one elderly slow as molasses woman ringing people up and about eight million of us in line. I look down towards the service desk and see no less than five employees all standing around with a vacant stare on their faces. I decided I wasn't gong to wrangle my inches away from full melt-down mode toddler through the long-ass line to save $1 on diapers, so I threw it on a display and walked out. Take that, Babies R Us! ha ha. Oh, well.
I managed to get my energy together to take the ladies to a park this afternoon, as well. It had been a loooonnnng time since I had done that, so I was pretty darn proud of myself. Matt and I had planned on bringing both of the girls to our counseling session tonight, so I figured it would behoove us to wear Iris out at least a tiny bit. Yes, we're still going to counseling. We started talking tonight about cutting the cord, though. We love it, though, as it's pretty much the one time every week we can count on really connecting with each other. Coming from such a rocky place has also made us a little gun-shy of ever getting in to any fights, so when we do, which has been amazingly and wonderfully very few and far between, it's helpful to bounce some ideas off of the counselor as to how to try and do better next time. Iris did great in the appointment, by the way, although we essentially paid to talk with the counselor about all of her rocks, which Iris found terribly fascinating. Well, no, actually we talked about how shitty I feel alot of nights. I wrote about this a few posts ago, about talking to my doctor and basically being told I'm just going to feel shitty as long as I have the stress of mothering two very needy children on little sleep and less than adequate outlets for my stress. So, we talked to the counselor about all of that. It is sort of frustrating to be told "take some time for yourself! learn some breathing techniques!" because I feel like that trivializes what I'm really dealing with on a day-to-day basis. Okay, maybe I just wanted to hear that there was some awesome drug out there for mothers to help them get through it all. Oh, right. There is. It's called valium.
We opened the whole preschool can of worms tonight, as well. I'm so dizzy over the whole thing. Living in such a major city allows you more preschool options than you can shake a stick at. We are mostly limited by finances and practically lost our eyeballs when we saw that some of the schools charge upwards of $1000 a month for a freakin' three year old to attend their program. If I pay someone $1000 to educate my three year old, she better turn out to be a freakin' nuclear physicist some day.
Okay, that's enough brain dump for this evening.