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Next Life, NO Kids: My house smells like a latrine, and everyone is crying.

October 29, 2012

My house smells like a latrine, and everyone is crying.

My latest post partum obsession is that my house smells like a dirty diaper. I don't want to have people over and when I do, my first question is usually, "Does it smell in here?" I'm a mess, lighting candles that mine as well be shit scented because it's a lost battle. My house smells like a latrine, and everyone is crying.

Jordan is crying because he's two months old and that's what babies do. He cries when he's hungry and when he's wet and when he's tired and doesn't want to sleep. He's really is a great baby and I'm REALLY lucky that he can communicate his needs and the knowledge of what each cry signifies. When he does finally give up the fight for sleep, he cries when Nicholas Jr. wakes him up, usually by stomping around or yelling directly into his face. He cries when he is startled, even when awake, by a large bang or scream, when his brother or sister hears the word "No", which lately is quite often because they're both throwing tantrums on the daily. 

I'm crying because it's all I want to do lately. I'm struggling with the feeling of utter failure as a woman, mother, and wife and cannot handle ANY criticism AT ALL. If Nick comes home and even exhales too loud I convince myself that it's due to his complete disappointment in me and that he's going to leave me. He assures me that he's just breathing and then I feel crazy which makes me cry even more. Post partum depression is amazing. 

Nicholas Jr. is crying because he has recently become hyper-fascinated with that stupid Japanese show WipeOut. He's flying off the couch, smashing his head and face off of everything, and making obstacle courses in my living room to bounce all over. He's hurting himself constantly and then, as soon as he stops crying about the injury of the moment, he's back up on the arm of the couch. I can strangely identify with this self-injurious behavior, but for entirely different reasons and I hate that fucking show with a fiery passion at this point. I feel like I've become that annoying mother of the four year old on the plane in that Bill Cosby stand up routine in "HIMSELF".  

Jeffrey is replaced with Nicholas and he is three years old. 

I say his name 900 times a day followed by "no", "don't", "please", "give me", "if you don't", "get down", "stop running/jumping/banging/drumming/ playing golf in the house/yelling"one...", "two...", "you gonna make me say three?". "NO MORE WIPEOUT". "Get out of the baby's face, he's trying to sleep, please don't yell in his face, he's sleeping." I often remember those Calgon commercials and pray to be taken away, but sadly it never works.

At the end of the day when my husband comes home I don't even want to greet him because I don't want to say Nicholas anymore. I usually start crying moments after he steps through the door on days like this. Today is a day like this. 

Corinne is crying because she's sixteen and everyone in the world is against her. No one is ever on her side and she's on to the fact that we're all conspiring to ruin her life. Nothing is ever fair, curfew is never late enough, and we NEVER give her anything she wants or needs. She does not, of course, literally cry, with tears, but rather more often whining about how the world has wronged her yet again. I am a terrible mother, her father is useless, and my husband is weak because he would rather compromise than argue. 

I imagine Nick Sr. is crying on the inside. I can't imagine that he doesn't want to cry all of the time. If not from dealing with all of the sobbing and drama, at least from the constant smell of shit.

God help us. 

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