Here I Go Again, On My Own...

Tony's gone. For a week. To Vegas for work. Jesus Christ on a cross. Kill me now. I lost my Xanax somewhere in the move, it's probably in the basement somewhere and I'm <thisclose> to spending all night digging around for it. I want to kill puppies. I want to kill my children. This is my first time being alone with all 4 kids for more than like, 12 hours. Last time Tony went to Vegas for AU I was 5 months pregnant with the triplets, trying to take it easy while taking care of one kid. And I bitched and complained how tough that was. What a naive little douche I was. I give MAD MAD MAD props to the single moms out there with more than two kids. I've been alone since Sunday at 8 AM and I (nor my children) may make it until Friday. Fuck, I'm not even halfway there.

Will the fighting ever stop? The screeching? The high pitched screams? The barking like a dog? I want to get off. This ride is making me sick. Literally. I nearly vomited today. Could it have been the virus Holden just had? Maybe. I think it's the stress. Maybe the hangover.

There's still a half hour until bedtime and I have hours worth of dishes, cleaning, sweeping, mopping and tidying ahead. Because I have Early Intervention coming over Thursday to reevaluate Nora and Holden during the busiest week of the last 3 years. Wonderful. I'll be spending my evening not relaxing and unwinding, trying to forget how many times I lost my cool today, but instead slaving away doing all the housework myself. Did I mention the cats shat on the floor today AND puked up 3 hairballs? Wonderful.

I usually thrive in stressful and emergent situations, taking the bull by the horns, going into "hafta" mode, calm as a cucumber, my thoughts clear and concise, allowing me to plow through chores and difficulty with ease and swiftness. Yet somehow this time around it's making me a stress freak.

I can't even find any TV programming that will quell the beasts into quiet and calm. Special Agent Oso, Toy Story 1, 2, and 3, Mickey's Clubhouse, Dora, Diego, Max & Ruby... they've all lost their glitter.

I keep screaming things I told myself I would never utter: "SHUT UP ALREADY!", "GO WATCH TV!", "DO YOU WANT A SPANKING?!", "I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL SELL YOU TO GYPSIES!", "GET THAT HORSE OFF THE GLASS THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!", "STOP BARKING!", "USE YOUR INSIDE VOICE!", "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" All that "Do as I do" shit has gone RIGHT out the window and I've resorted to my father's "Do as I say" parenting style. I think if they were quieter I would have more fun hanging out with them. But when I do that with one or two, the other two or three are climbing on tables, disassembling lamps, swinging toys at each other (I never realised Gwen knew the term, "INCOMING!" until just this very second), hitting each other, slamming each other in the toy box, disassembling the furniture... I can't take it.

I really need to find that Xanax.