The Flood Gates have Opened. Mom is Cracking: Part 287

This whole past weekend has been a marathon of not sleeping. Bob had several things to do and a dinner to attend Saturday night, which meant, other then me leaving the house on Friday evening, there has been no real break from Brooke.

I went to bed late on Friday night, she got up early. I was with her all day Saturday, as Bob cut grass and worked on projects around the house because he was having company and wanted everything to look like he keeps up on it, which he actually does since the move. Should be a good thing, but it just leaves me dealing with the princess 24/7.

Saturday, she decided that she would not sleep. She was up until 230am, I missed most of the fun downstairs, as I read books to her,and entertained her so she would not jump all over the guests. As adorable as I know she is, guests that are drinking, relaxing and sharing old stories prefer to do it without said toddler jumping from couch to couch, making everyone sigh in fear that she will break a bone....so she was only cute for maybe 10 minutes when I had to take her away.

From there, the rest of the weekend was all a blur. Yesterday she woke up early, kept me busy all day and night, feel asleep at 3am and woke this morning at 650am. Bob worked over, came home at 930ish and went straight to bed, because he worked all day, while I got to live the easy life and deserved no sleep or relaxation. Dealing with an active, demanding toddler for 19hours straight...19 HOURS STRAIGHT...is a just a cake walk.

I hear her whining for juice and look and see the 650am. I decide it must be a horrible nightmare and just lay there in a trance for a few minutes, all the while, she is whining, now crying, now screaming..."Get me juice, I hunGEE!!" I pinch myself, it is real.

Before I can jump up to act on the demands, I feel tears streaming down my face. Uncontrollable, I am so miserable and exhausted, tears just flooding out. The build up is so strong, I fear I will sob loud and scare the b'jesus out of her. I walk upstairs to get her juice. I make a stop into the bathroom, see my tired, depressed, lack of sleep, worn out face and start another uncontrollable sob that starts in my toes and includes every muscle in my body...spasms of tears erupt from each one.

I get myself under control enough to deliver her juice. She is all cozy now, watching Sponge Bob, I go back upstairs and relieve some more build up with more tears. Yet , instead of a release, I feel more desperate and start going through a list in my head of someone to call, anyone to call and just give me a tiny, little break, watch Brooke for me so that I can just rest for a small amount of time...I go to grab a smoke and see that I have one left. One lousing shot of nicotine will never get me through this..I call Bob, he is "too busy" and will bring me some in about twenty five minutes, that was an hour ago.

Now I sit here knowing that I will be working soon, knowing that dragging Brooke out to get cigarettes will start the toddler trantrum, cause you don't dare take the child anywhere for only 5 minutes. The 3 hours of screaming and crying when you get back of "wanna go bye-byes!!" is so not worth it. So, I am stuck. Stuck in more ways than I can possibly count. Stuck in ways that makes you wake up in tears. Mommy is having a mini-breakdown and ain't nobody gonna save her. God, I hope he gets here soon with the smokes. A pathetic habit, for sure, but one that never lets me down. My friend that says take a deep breath, inhale and relax....all better now. Until it kills me.