I am grumpy, angry, tired, frustrated, and feeling sorry for myself. Consider yourself warned.
I realized earlier this evening that I'm not a happy camper right now. To wit:
Work. Sucks, but this is not new. It's not the work itself, really; it's all the rubbish around the work. Some days it's really difficult to keep from being utterly demoralized by the bureaucratic labyrinthine process nonsense that I have to plow through just to get anything done. Yes, we all have to do it; but it makes us SO much less productive, and that's really frustrating - I've always taken pride in getting things done relatively swiftly. And while I'm sure someone somewhere thinks these new processes (which often change week to week) are all great ideas, it's a little hard to keep my mouth shut when I've seen the same things attempted at company after company after company to no good effect.
I used to have faith in all the MBAs at the top. At my first job in the computer industry, we won a major overseas bid (the only US company bidding; it was a big PR coup). Of course, we'd sold them something we hadn't built yet; but we had really good people and they busted their collective butts getting the thing out. Not two weeks before the product was due to ship I saw a memo from Le Frommage Grand on the secretary's desk, declaring that version one of the product would not ship on a particular platform. Which just happened to be the only platform the customer cared about. So much for the PR coup. I don't have faith in MBAs anymore - at least not MBAs I don't know.
Mommyhood. Anyone who listens to the podcast knows I'm feeling pretty much like a complete failure right now. Tonight did not help - grabbed my glasses again, and needed two time outs in the space of five minutes. Have I mentioned I hate those time outs? I leave her room and close the door, and I listen to her cry for me for two minutes. Sometimes I cry, too. She hurts my feelings, and she thinks it's funny. Is two too young for empathy?
Cat. Sabella is supposed to get 75-100ml of fluids every night, via a needle in her neck. She also gets a liquid antibiotic twice a day (I've only been giving it to her once), a liquid antacid once a day, and two half-pills a day. I have not been rigorous about this. It's not because I don't care, either - it's because for a cat with a terminal condition she's damn sprightly. She's figured out exactly how to jerk to get the needle to pull out. I keep trying, but the last three nights I've maybe got 10ml into her. I've developed more effective methods for the liquids and the pills; but administering the medicines certainly turns me into the Big Kitty Enemy for a while. She doesn't sleep with me anymore, or at least not often. It's worth it, of course, if she's more comfortable; but this isn't how I want to be saying goodbye to her.
Life. A friend of mine at work whose daughter is about five weeks older than Em is pregnant again. I am jealous. I can barely cope with one - I'm not even sure I'd want a second one - and I'm jealous.
Okay, so it's not that bad. I'm paid terribly well to be grumpy about the Faceless Corporation, and the truth of it is that the work - sporadic as it sometimes feels - is still kind of fun. And I'm less jealous of my friend than I was when I first heard about her pregnancy - mostly I'm just happy for her. (Mostly.)
And it's possible tonight that I hit on a useful tactic with Em. After the second time out, I did not lie down next to her again - I sat next to the bed. She moved over and asked me to lie down, and I told her I wouldn't because she had not behaved herself. She got very quiet at that. I read a few books to her, and eventually she made room for me and asked again for me to lie down. I said "No grabbing my glasses, no pulling my hair." She nodded. I lay down next to her, and she was quiet and well behaved until her daddy came in. Much, much better. Maybe I need to wait for an invitation - maybe she'll behave better when she has more control over her own space.
Mostly I'm just tired. AGAIN. These days I barely wake up - I just stagger to her room when she calls for me, and doze off there. I prefer to sleep in my own bed; but it beats staying up all night. Of course, I don't think it teaches her to sleep on her own; so I'm probably just buying more trouble.
But.
The other morning, before dawn, I was awoken by a hand on my head. She felt around a little and found my ear, then stuck a finger in (just to make sure it was an ear, I suppose!). Then she said "Mummy." Not upset, or whiny, or anything - just identifying me. And she went back to sleep.
Just lovely.