I can't seem to function. Well, I do. I function in a sneaky sorta way. I do the bare minimum to get thru the day. I get up. I get dressed. I get my kids up (always running late). I get them dressed...Mostly. I attempt to fix Claudia (the Bear)'s hair. I MAKE Carson put shoes on. Sometimes I change the baby *before* we take the girls to school. Then we come home. I nuke pancakes for Carson--or just give him cookies or cheetos. I lay on the couch/recliner and hold Caden. I watch Court TV or Headline News ALL DAY. I nuke soup you can drink right out of the can for lunch! Fix Carson a sandwich and more cheetos--he eats the cheese out of his sandwich and licks the mayo off the bread. I throw all the dirty/wet diaper into the trash (that have laid all over the floor, bundled up all day). Then we go get the girls.
And then, 1 hour before Moonpie comes home, we run around picking things up, putting clothes up, vacuuming, unloading the dishwasher, throwing together a dinner of some sorts. Spray Febreeze...Pour Pine Sol in the toilets...Turn on the dryer (again)... Sometimes it fools him into thinking I have done my "chores" right. And I tiptoe around. Waiting for him to say something, anything. Because *whatever* he says will piss me off. Sometimes I hear him and bitch at him in my head--other times I boil over and snap at him out loud, most attractively (not).
Then at bed time I can't fall asleep--and when I do, one of three kids will wake up and need attending. Feeding. Changing. Patted. A drink. Clean underwear and bed covers. Rocked. Changed again. Fed again. A dog will need me to open the door and scream (in a hushed voice) "Shut UP GUNNER!" Then I lay in bed and try to go back to sleep--only to be awakened twice more before "morning".
I need sleeping pills. And Valium. And a maid.
PS: Tomorrow we start counseling--partly glad, mostly sad.