I may have mentioned before that I don’t deal with stress well. At all. Not even a little bit.

The kids are getting a little tired of being together all day every day and school is still two weeks away. The girls now have separate rooms and Kaylie is of the opinion that she can go into Liliana’s room whenever she wants and touch anything that she wants, but if Liliana goes into her room then ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE and I hear “MOM! LILIANA’S IN MY ROOM!” I ask her if she goes into Liliana’s room without asking. “Yes.” Then why can’t Liliana go into your room without asking? “I don’t know.”

It’s been raining a lot here which means that outside time has been at an all-time low for summer. We have a bigger place here than we did in Regina, but still being cooped up inside most of the summer has made us have a bit of cabin fever.

When Liliana stopped napping, I still made her spend her “nap” time in her room as “quiet time”. Since moving here, quiet time has been anything but quiet. She needs her closet opened. She needs her music back on. She needs a drink. She needs to go pee for the 482nd time and I don’t feel like cleaning up an accident when I don’t believe her the one time she actually has to go.

Liliana will NOT. STOP. YELLING. Kaylie will NOT. STOP. PUSHING. HER. BUTTONS. Even when button-pushing is not going on, Liliana will still find some reason to make the entire neighborhood hear how hard her life is because someone didn’t say “you’re welcome” after she said “thank you”.

I’m going a little nutso.

I’m ready for the routine of fall. I’m ready for Kaylie to be back at school. I’m ready to enjoy my three one-kid weekdays that I don’t work. I’m ready for my anxiety level to be a little lower.

The girls and I took off to the park after dinner this evening.

They needed outdoor time and I needed start-my-new-book time.

It was more short-lived than we would have liked because during a game of hide-and-seek with some other park kids, Kaylie fell off the highest point of the play structure. She’s alright, just a couple scrapes and bruises. On the way home, Liliana kept staying, “It’s alright Kaylie. We’ll take care of you.” That kid sure screams a lot, but she’s also very sensitive and hates to see others hurting. When Kaylie was crying, Liliana started to cry and yelled at Kaylie to STOP CRYING.

I’m going to be glad when this day is over.

She’s been baby-talking for the last couple weeks and it makes me want to gouge out my eardrums.

The time-outs were for screaming though.

She seems to NEVER. STOP. SCREAMING.

Dirty dishes are piled high beside the sink.

Five bazillion loads of (clean) laundry are on my bed, waiting to be folded.

I gouged myself with my claw-like nails as I was carrying a kicking and screaming Liliana into her bed for her time-out.

My shoulder is now bleeding.

The pitas I was planning on using to make dinner last night were moldy.

They still had a couple days until their expiry date.

Serves me right to buy groceries at Walmart.

We ate 3-day-old left-overs instead.

There was a showing of the apartment yesterday morning.

I forgot about it.

I hope they didn’t mind walking into a post-tornado-like zone.

We move in 11 days.

We’re going away this weekend.

That gives me 8 more days to pack.

Three of those day are filled with soccer.

All of those days are filled with work.

Kaylie’s been asking “why?” to just about everything I ask her to do.

Her party this past weekend reminded me why I’m not a fan of other people’s kids.

They were up until midnight.

And giggling and thumping balloons before 6am.

Liliana woke up at 4:30am that morning and turned my bed into Vomit Lake.

I’ve eaten way too much of Kaylie’s leftover birthday cake.

I keep hearing my phone’s text message alert.

Even though I’ve got it set to vibrate.

I’ll talk to my psychologist about that on Friday.

I went out with Katie last night because if I didn’t get some time that had nothing to do with work or children, I may have self-destructed.

I had to leave early because I was feeling extremely nauseous.

I got up at 2:00am and turned my bathroom into Vomit Lake II.

It was disgusting.

Because all you want to do when you’ve vomited up half your body weight is clean it off of your bathroom floor.

And walls.

Six feet high.

Seriously.

I am amazing.

But apparently not amazing enough to make it to the toilet bowl on time.

The rest of the night, though, I did.

Food poisoning is a BLAST.

The good news?

I got to stay home today ALL BY MYSELF.

The bad news?

The food poisoning part.

You’re welcome.

There is an outdoor pool behind our apartment building.
The girls and I went in the yesterday.
Because it finally opened.
We got out quickly when someone pooped in their bathing suit.
Thankfully she was standing on the side of the pool.
We left in such a hurry that we forgot a couple things.
One was Kaylie’s boogie board.
It was there when I went back later.
The other was my camera.
It was not there when I came back later.
There are not enough swear words for a situation like that.
I left a message with the rental office in case someone turns it in.
And I’m going to make up signs tonight if that doesn’t happen.
@*#&$%?>$*%!

I always check my bag before leaving the parking lot of a drive-thru. It’s just common sense, right?

They gave me fries instead of onion rings.

I went inside, switched my fries for onion rings, and went back to the car.

Kaylie had mustard on her burger.

I brought her burger back in and exchanged it for one with NO PICKLES AND NO MUSTARD.

I brought it back to the car. It also had NO CHEESE.

SERIOUSLY. ANNOYING.

I brought it back in and talked to the same guy I got the onion rings from who was standing RIGHT NEXT TO THE MANAGER.

I got the right burger. The manager listened as I was talking to her employee, DIDN’T EVEN BAT AN EYELASH WHEN I SAID IT WAS MY THIRD TIME COMING BACK IN, and then went back to what she was doing.

Awesome customer service.

I finally got the right burger to Kaylie and told her that when she pays for something, she should always make sure that it is done right, even if it’s just a burger.

And then I ate my COLD onion rings and COLD burger because THAT’S HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO GET THE FREAKING ORDER RIGHT.

Now, no comments about that time I took back my Blizzard, ok?

Yea, that.

I’m burning out.

I thought that when I went down to working “only” one job and “only” 40 hours per week that life would somehow slow down.

That is not the case.

I get off work at 4pm. Noah starts work at 6pm. In that two-hour time period, he picks us three girls up from school, daycare, and work, I make dinner, he leaves, and the girls and I get on with our evening of playing, baths, and bedtime. BUT, when you add soccer games and marathon training into the mix and the fact that if Kaylie has soccer in the evening we have to drive Noah to work DURING RUSH HOUR because we only have one vehicle, it gets a little insane.

Like last night.

By the time I got home from my run last night, it was just after 10pm. Needless to say, there’s laundry to be done, dishes to be done, floors that haven’t seen a vacuum in over a week, and if I step on another little toy ….

If I could only go without sleep, all would be accomplished. And I’d have time to catch up on Monday’s episode of Chuck and Tuesday’s episode of Glee.

And, you know, maybe blog a little.

The thing is, I cannot and will not give up any of those things that take up my day. Work is a(n annoying) necessity, and soccer (and ballet) and marathon training keep Kaylie and I ticking.

I stopped working weekends a month or so ago, yet something always seems to come up that prevents the whole unwinding-from-the-week process. The things that come up are good and fun and I never ever regret them, but then Monday comes and I’m like HOW THE HECK DID THAT HAPPEN.

Last weekend we went to Saskatoon for Mother’s Day Weekend. This weekend my parents are coming for Grandparent’s Day at Kaylie’s school. Next weekend we are potty training (YES WE ARE, LILIANA!). (I can hear the “NO I DON’T HAVE TO!” already.) (Not that she doesn’t need to go, but that she WILL NOT go because it’s WAY more convenient to just go where she is and then come up to me and say, “Mamee! Change my diaper! I peed!”) (And if you CAN say that, then you probably CAN go on the potty NOW CAN’T YOU?!) The weekend after that, I’m sure something will come up. (Oh wait, Kaylie’s got her year-end ballet performance and a bajillion practices that weekend.)

And it will be followed by MONDAY.

Ok. I’m done whining now. Carry on.

I admit that I did the one season of figure skating thing to Kaylie, but it was for her own safety. You see, I have no patience. NONE. I took her to the local rink a couple times in an attempt to teach her to skate, but I ended up so frustrated that I signed her up for figure skating so that SOMEONE ELSE could teach her how to skate. The bonus being that she’d live to see her next birthday.

Kaylie was in soccer our last year in Terrace but didn’t get to play last season because of too many summer trips/camps planned and the fact that I forgot about it until it was too late. I made sure this year to make a note of when soccer sign-up started … and then forgot. As I mentioned before, I missed the cut-off by a couple days and Kaylie ended up in the north league instead of the south league – but she still made it on to a team. I’m determined to give her the opportunity to be in at least one activity per season. You know, within reason. She’s also in ballet, which overlaps with soccer for a couple weeks.

I signed Liliana up as well, and her soccer starts on Monday. AND HERE LIES THE PROBLEM. Kaylie has ballet on Mondays at 5:15pm. Liliana has soccer on Mondays at 5:30pm. Kaylie has soccer on Mondays at 6:00pm. Noah starts work on Mondays at 6:00pm. AND WE ONLY HAVE ONE VEHICLE. I was not aware of the days that their soccer practices/games were on when I signed them up. That information was not available. BUT THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE, NOW WOULDN’T IT?

I used to love Mondays. I used to have Mondays off. Liliana and I would spend the day together getting groceries and doing errands and having a lunch out. I loved it. Now my Mondays look like they were vomited on by a mini-van-driving soccer mom. AND I DON’T DRIVE A MINI VAN ANYMORE. (Have I mentioned this yet? We sold it. Good bye van. Good riddance.)

I’m sure we’ll make Mondays work somehow, even though I’ll probably wine (yes, that IS spelled correctly) my way through them. (Okay, I’ll probably just END them that way, relax and stop dialing social services.)

To add insult to injury, I haven’t bought tickets to Kaylie’s end-of-the-year ballet performance yet. It’s not until the 29th, but they went on sale last Saturday, and I’m sure they’re almost sold out already because parents ARE that crazy about their children’s events, right? AM I RIGHT? I already wrote it on my hand to do it tomorrow. Yes, on my hand because I LOSE pieces of paper.

Also, this morning I woke up to this:

Snow.

In May.

SNOW.

Kaylie’s soccer practice tonight was canceled. Thank goodness.

Mother Nature and I have a deal though. It’s not allowed to snow after my birthday. EVER.

So far, in my lifetime (that I can remember), it hasn’t.

She’s got until Monday to find some way to HOLD THE SNOW OFF UNTIL NOVEMBER.

So. In conclusion. I hate snow. I hate cold. I hate Mondays. I hate birthdays. I hate having too many things going on in one day.

Next Monday is going to be a treat.

See?

Crazy kid.

So, Noah was out of town this weekend, and took the car with him. Kaylie had soccer practice today and since I signed her up too late, she’s in the league in the north end of the city (they still had room on their roster), instead of in the south end where we live RIGHT BESIDE A SOCCER FIELD. Can you see where I’m going with this?

All four of us girls (my sister is staying with us for a month) took the bus up north to Kaylie’s practice. Sounds simple, right? Well, we never have cash on us, but we have a change jar with nickles and dimes (and pennies) in it, so I dumped that out and counted out bus fare for four people. (I was hoping that today’s practice was canceled since yesterday’s was BECAUSE THERE WAS A BLIZZARD OUTSIDE and it was still quite cold today and therefore was not prepared with proper change.)

Yea, so we had to take two different buses to get up there because Regina’s bus system is stupid. We caught the first one no problem, and I double-checked with the bus driver that we’d be able to catch our transfer as our first bus was supposed to arrive at the same time our second bus was supposed to leave. The driver said it was no problem. The girls were surprisingly well behaved and sat quietly in their seats the entire way.

I’d forgotten to ask for transfer tickets when we got on the bus, and I asked Erica to grab them as I got the kids off. Apparently the driver didn’t understand what she was asking for and just sent her “up there” to the next bus. We started toward the 901 going north AND THEN WE WATCHED IT DRIVE AWAY. I may have sworn at the original bus driver as I started to dial the number for a cab. (I’m cheap and I was trying to avoid that, but on Sundays the buses only come every hour.)

But, then that same bus driver that I silently swore at pulled up a bit and said that he’d asked the 901 bus driver to wait for us and that he’d drive us up to where the 901 was waiting. We got back on, drove up a couple blocks, got back off, and got on the 901. And then realized that we still didn’t have transfers. I explained this to the 901 driver, and he VERY RUDELY radioed the other guy and said, “Did these guys pay?” Jerk.

We finally got up to Kaylie’s soccer practice ON TIME, although Liliana was quite the turd on the second bus ride. She wanted to sit by Kaylie, so Erica and Kaylie switched spots so that she was sitting between me and Kaylie. The four of us were sharing three seats and this did not fly well with The Princess and she started yelling that she wanted her OWN seat between me and Kaylie and I tried to explain to her that that WASN’T GOING TO HAPPEN and then she wanted to stand up and look out the window and then she wanted to sit on Kaylie’s lap and then she wanted to sit on the seat beside Kaylie and then she wanted to look out the window again. Lather, rinse, repeat. Any attempts to get her to sit quietly were met with yelling, and for the sake of the other passengers, I let her play her games and told her that I’d beat her when we got home.

(Low quality photos brought to you by my phone.)

I let Liliana kick her ball around with the girls before the practice started. She brought her own Dora “soccer ball”. See? I can plan ahead. Sort of. We soon realized that it was a lot colder than we’d thought. I automatically started panicking that Liliana was not dressed warm enough and was kicking myself for not checking the weather before we left, but in my defense, it is MAY and I was expecting to NOT NEED WINTER GEAR AGAIN UNTIL NOVEMBER.

When the practice started, Erica, Liliana, and I walked to the corner store across the street to warm up for a bit and then went back to the soccer field, snacks and drinks in tow.

We found shelter from the wind for a while and then went to watch Kaylie in action. Liliana was crying by this point and would not let me warm her up. Finally, the team manager offered to have us sit in her truck to warm up. I let Erica and Liliana in while I stayed out to watch Kaylie. Apparently Liliana had a blast in there with the manager’s husband and son and was mooching their peanuts. Nothing new, the kid likes any food that is not her own. (She’ll refuse to eat her dinner and then mooch off of my plate even though I’m eating the EXACT SAME THING.)

When the practice (FINALLY) ended, I called a cab (NO WAY I WAS DOING THAT BUS THING BOTH WAYS) and we were soon on our way home with somebody yelling in the back because she COULDN’T FIND HER DINOSAUR and DID NOT WANT TO WEAR HER SEAT BELT.

We finally got home and were filing out of the back when Liliana, on her way past the driver, leaned over and hugged him and said thank you. SHE LEANED OVER THE SEAT AND HUGGED THE CAB DRIVER.

Twice.

He had a huge smile on his face and told us to have a great day.

I’m sure he did.

I got inside, changed into sweats, got under a fleece blanket, and swore never to ever go to a soccer practice again unless they had heated box seats for the parents (and siblings and aunts).

And then I shot Noah for taking the car away.

Apparently even when a mother of a three-year-old is having blog-shutting-down nervous break-downs, she still needs the brilliant advice of the people she’s so fond of on the internet. So, I’m seeking your advice, oh wise ones.

Liliana turned THREE last Sunday. Although there are many things that Noah and I love about her three-ness, there are also things that drive us clinically insane. Like the Screamy Screaminess and All The Screaming. And the “I DON’T HAVE TO!” responses to EVERYTHING SHE IS INSTRUCTED TO DO. Also, she’s scared of her own shadow. No, really. That and EVERYTHING ELSE.

Here are some of the things I can remember off-hand that scare the tar out of her. As in, she starts hysterically crying and grabbing for us like a shark just bit off her pinky toe and is now going for the full meal deal.

• the blender
• the coffee grinder
• the car wash
• rain
• wind
• the drive-thru ATM
• the Good Nite Lite
• the red exercise ball at my in-laws’ place
• her own shadow

The blender and the coffee grinder, yea, okay, I can see how those can be scary. I’ll give her those. The car wash? She has to sit on my lap huddled up with her blanket over her head the entire time the car is going through. Rain, as it’s quite rare here – as rare as sunshine in Terrace – reminds her of the car wash and sends her into a terrified screaming fit. The drive-thru ATM reminds her of the entrance to the car wash and every time we go through, I explain to her that this is a BANK MACHINE and it does not spray water. Just cash. Sometimes.

Kaylie, when she was two and we lived in Grande Prairie, had a good reason to be scared of the car wash. I accidentally left her window open a crack and water sprayed in and got her. Whoops. I was a lot more careful after that to make sure the windows were ALL THE WAY closed. I have no idea why Liliana is scared of the car wash though.

The wind? Well, we live on the prairies. It’s windy ALL THE TIME. Walking to and from the car is a TREAT on super windy days.

Amanda posted a while ago about the the Good Nite Lite and how it helped her daughter stay in bed until a reasonable hour. Liliana’s been getting up earlier and earlier and since I am a night owl, I refuse to get up earlier than I have to. So, I ordered one a couple weeks ago and it came in the other day. I programmed it and plugged it in and explained to Liliana that while the moon was blue, it was good night time, but when the sun was orange, it was get up time. The first night, it worked like a charm. The second night, she was terrified of it BECAUSE THE SUN IS SCARY. I sat down with her and explained that the sun is NOT scary and got her to touch and feel the light to see that it was not scary. She finally did, but moments later she came screaming that THE SUN IS SCARY. And then I tossed her out the window.

Before she went to bed tonight (an hour early) (for everybody’s sake), she brought me her old night light and made me switch it out for the SCARY SUN.

I haven’t a clue why she’s scared of the red exercise ball, but she will not go anywhere near it and will not even be in the same room as it. And her shadow? SUMMER IS GOING TO BE A BLAST. Seriously though, she’s afraid of her shadow, but will repeat what we’ve taught her when she sees her shadow. “Oh, there’s my shadow! But it’s not scary, right? My shadow is not scary.” AS SHE BACKS AWAY FROM IT.

So, here’s where I get your advice. Is there anything that your 3-ish-year-old child is/was terrified of? How did you get him/her to NOT be terrified of it anymore?

I’d really love your input.

I don’t know.

What I do know is that I miss the way my keyboard expels thoughts from my brain. I miss the interaction with my fellow internet addicts. I miss the feedback from objective (and sometimes not-so-objective) parties. I miss having a little space to call my own; a space where I can write what I want, when I want.

I don’t know how often I’ll post. At this point, I have an intense fear of commitment – personally, professionally (I’m working as a temp (and a server) after quitting the job I always wanted after only a month), and bloggally (see all the previous bazillion blog breaks I’ve taken). I guess all I can tell you is that I’ll post when I post.

If you’d asked me in high school where I saw myself as I neared my 27th birthday, I would not describe my life as it is. Not even close.

I don’t know what else to tell you besides that if you’re here? Reading this nonsensical post?

Thank you.