The other day I wrote that things were a little too quiet around here. That was not an issue last night. Last night, in fact, was a nightmare. I picked up the boys from G & G Theisen at about 5:30. Petar bagan crying on the way home and never really stopped until about 8:45. Oscar slept in his car seat until about 7:00, but then cried the rest of the time.
I tried everything: Shushing, swaddling, swaying, the swing, the vibrating chair, burping, changing diapers, tummy time, the radio, feeding, general noise-making, walking around. Nothing worked. Then, about 15 minutes before Rose came home, they stopped. Magically, it seemed. Who knows why. I certainly don't.
For some reason, I feel like I can deal with these sorts of things better during the day. At night, I get frustrated. Maybe I'm tired from work? Though, I didn't feel particularly tired last night, and my job really isn't all that physically demanding. Maybe it's because I'm used to some quiet time when I can do my own thing during the evening? I better get used to not having that.
What made it most difficult for me, is that while all this is happening, I'm wondering how on earth I'm going to be able to survive in Georgia. It was very stressful; my back was tightening up, my mind was racing... When Rose came home and I was telling her about the night, she suggested help from grandparents. That's all well and good, but I feel like I need practice at handling these dudes on my own. Two days and nights per week seems like a good start, I think. It's probably a good thing these guys aren't going to remember any of this.
Maybe it's because I was an only child that I like to tackle things on my own. It's certainly not that I don't appreciate, need, or want any help from friends and family. That is, afterall, why we moved here. But I do feel like I need to take on some of this challenge by myself. Especially because we may very likely be moving to a place where we will have no help at all. At least not right away. Sure, the boys will be older, but I don't think that being five months old necessarily correlates with more rational baby behavior. In fact, add the abilities to crawl and put objects in their mouths, and the task seems all the more daunting.
Anyway, today is a new day, and so is Thursday, at which point, I will try again. And I will do better. I'm extremely reluctant to say that it couldn't be any worse; I'm sure it can. But, at the very least, I've got more experience under my belt.
