Ok, so it wasn't the worst day ever. Kate, Jenn, and Melyssa came over and brought two kids that played with Ethan while we ate food and talked about scary homebirths. Kate read Oswald Chambers. That was the good part. The rest was the no good horrible very bad day.
Ethan has been cranky for pretty much the last two weeks. He took one brief intermission when Abbie and Eldin came to visit, but that is about it. He seems tired, but I can't force him to sleep. I offer him food often, so he isn't hungry. I give him ibprofen in case he is teething, so he shouldn't be in too much pain. I don't know what the deal is. He cries when he doesn't get what he wants now which is so not cute. He has been having EXTREME separation anxiety issues. He cries if I walk into another room. He wants to be held all the time. I cannot do this. One Reason is that he is 24lbs and I can't carry that all day. Another Reason is I need two hands on occasion.
Today if I washed his bottles at the sink, he stood by me tugging on my leg and cried to the entire 10 minutes. He cried while I cooked dinner. He cried any time I went out of his eye line. He cried if he crawled across the room and saw I was far away. He cried when he played with his toys and realized he needed a hug. As his mother, and the person on the planet that has the greatest biological connection to him, I find it heartbreaking to hear him cry. It is very stressful for both of us. I try to avoid it when possible. This had been happening for going on ten hours when I tried to get the ham out of the oven. Ham juice spilled all in the oven because I didn't realize that I wouldn't be able to lift it out of the oven with one hand, and a toddler on the hip. There was no way I could set Ethan down and realistically expect him to not grab the oven door. I set the ham on the oven door (oven open) yelled at the dog to not even think about going near it or she would get her ass kicked to the other side of town, ran the baby into his crib and set him down and hid his Soothie so he could find it, like a game, ran back to get the ham. Not done. Drats. I repeat this putting the baby in his crib and running back to get the ham out of the oven several times. Finally, I think it is done. Then the baby starts crying hard core in the other room. I take off the oven mitts set them on top of the stove and go and pick him up. Then I hear the smoke alarm. Thinking the ham juice is burning inside the oven I don't get too concerned. I leave Ethan in the living room(crying). I walk into the kitchen and see the oven mitts are on fire. I apparently had left the burner on from when I cooked the glaze on the stove top. I grab them (stupid in hindsight--burned my thumb and finger)throw them in the sink and dowse them in water. Fire gone. Meanwhile the smoke detector is getting louder and louder and so is Ethan's crying. The apartment is filled with smoke. So I did the only logical thing any mother would do. I pick up the baby. I open the windows. I grab my cell phone. Ethan and I go outside to wait for the smoke to clear. I call my husband. And start to bawl.
"Nathan...I started a fire!."
Oh, and I overcooked the ham while putting out the fire. At least my mashed potatoes were awesome.