Recovery

One night of drinking has spilled over into day three and I'm still exhausted. Normally, I'm up at the asscrack of dawn, ready to get the kids up and fed, work out, and start my day. Today, I sit at the computer, one hand on head, dripping yogurt from my spoon into the container because the energy it would take to lift spoon to mouth is too much for me.

I'd make coffee except I ran out of Tassimo packets and I don't even know where that archaic thing called a coffee pot is. Or even if we have any coffee or filters to make it. Oh woe. Why can't Dunkin Donuts deliver?

I did get my ass to the gym last night, mostly because it was the big weigh-in for the Biggest Loser contest. Since I was there with my cousin, we worked out a bit. I did a gigantic incline on the treadmill and HOO BOY does that make a difference in your workout. I didn't even need to run and burned more calories than if I did. Starting today and until October 31, anything I go to put in my mouth, I will question myself if it's worth the 5K prize.

Considering we have like half a gallon of milk and a cheeto in the house, I think I'm safe at least until we go food shopping. Oh woe. Why doesn't Peapod deliver here?

(Notice the theme of me wishing places woul deliver me my necessities because I think I'd rather eat that cheeto than venture out with two children when I'm this run-down.)

Sawyer continues to have some reflux symptoms and rough moments at his dayhome, but there is definite improvement all around on the cereal. He keeps it down and takes his bottles with less of a fight. He started sleeping longer stretches, from 7-3, feeds and then goes back down again until 630 or so. So thats almost 12 hours with one feeding. I can handle that. In another few weeks, we'll try sneaking in the 10pm feeding again to see if we can get that 7-3 to be 10-6 which would be fan-fucking-tastic. If not, I'll go with his flow. I want him to be happy and if that means I have to get up at 3 am every night, I will. I can't say I'll look cute the next morning, but I'll do it.

Charlotte has been better at staying in her bed. She gives me a hard time at naptime, but only me. Not Mike. Not my mother. And not at bedtime. Just me. Just naptime. When I need to work. When I've killed myself to get both kids down to nap at the same time so I can have an hour or two to work. I've considered duct-taping her to the bed, but I hear that's frowned upon.

I have to go back to the dentist this afternoon to get those permanent inlays put in (hold me), but I think the back tooth may be beyond repair. The dentist said I could chew on that side with the temporary filling in but it's so sensitive, I can't. It's like chewing aluminium. For the past two weeks, I've been chewing on one side and now I'm convinced I will need a root canal after all. I don't think I can handle that. My stomach lurches as I type those words. I very well may pass the frick out in the dentist. Also, the one tooth that they didn't drill last time because they couldn't do all three at once was the original one that was hurting and now it hurts so bad, it makes the whole side of my face throb and causes terrible headaches. So I'm hoping he can drill that one out today or something even though that wasn't the intent of the appointment. Fun, huh?

If you don't hear from me tonight or tomorrow morning, I'm dead at the dentist.