Where's My Time?

Frustrated. That's one word to explain how I feel, well maybe tired as well. Before you continue to read this entry I might have to warn you-your opinions of me might change. I might sound harsh, and you might think I'm an insensitive B, but no matter what the issue is I always get stuck. Always. Take today for example (here's where you'll think I'm a B), today is the day our car is destroyed. Well yesterday actually, but today I'm mad about it. Taking advantage of the beautiful weather Nugget and I went for a long stroll with Baby Guru and her daughter. It felt so good to get out again. I swear September was the last time I hit the boards. But anyway, Guru and I went for a nice long walk, we talked and talked and then we parted ways as we went home, almost 2 hours later (our walks always lasted 2 hours or longer-which used to make for the quickest afternoons). And then, just as I was walking up to my street I heard them-the sirens. Several sirens. And then came the call. My husband has gotten in an accident on his way to work. A young girl who was here to visit her friend ran through a red light. My husband was okay, a little sore and shaken up, but our car was not. My heart was in my throat as I ran, Nugget still in stroller, against the wind and over to Franklin and Broadway. Seeing the car hit home more than the sirens and the phone call. The front end was ripped off the car and hanging by a tiny piece of scrap metal along the road. Fluid was flowing from our car and onto the road faster than if you opened up a fire hydrant and the air bags were deployed. The only thing I was grateful for, besides that my husband and the teenage girl were okay, was that Nugget or I were not in the car at the time.
After all the paperwork was completed the three of us walked home, no car by our side. If you read one of my first blog entries you know that I decided to get rid of my car, that I barely used since I walked everywhere. Now here we are, no car at all-tied to the house and making a million phone calls to get our car back as fast as we can. So why, besides another new problem that I don't need right now, am I frustrated you ask? It could have something to do with the million appointments that I have today. Nugget's 1 year check-up is in an hour, followed by my doctor's appointment where I possibly find out the sex of our baby, then an appointment at the bank, and so on. Did the car situation frustrate me? No. I walk everywhere, so we layer it on and stroll over, big deal. But as soon as Nugget gets up Daddy starts complaining that his back hurts, his shoulder, his leg. I didn't expect him to be pain free and I was sympathetic to him. But he didn't have a problem staying up late last night to watch his football games and chat on the phone with his male companions about the scores and plays. Even before the accident the husband had arranged his schedule to run these errands with me. Now he was to sore and wanted to stay in bed. So I fed Nugget, I showered with Nugget, I dressed Nugget, I put Nugget down for a quick nap, I took the dog for a walk and I came back to see the husband out of bed and on the phone with Enterprise making an appointment to pick up a rental car. And there you go, the husband that's to sore to walk with me to the doctors isn't sore enough to jump in the car with the Enterprise man who just came and picked him up, drive over to get the car seat out of our ruined car, and so on. Are those things more important than going with us? Or am I being a total selfish wife? I don't know anymore. But I'm just as tired and stressed as he is, so should I be standing up more and making him take on more initiative or letting him relax and lay on the couch to prepare himself for Monday night football? My Baby Guru got me set with Nugget, so maybe I need to hire a Husband Guru to get me straight with the man.
Either way this seems to be my luck lately. The week before we left for Christmas was supposed to be my time to run errands without Nugget. I couldn't wait. Ah, an afternoon in the car, the music as loud as I want, running through the mall without a stroller to push or baby to carry, as many cold coffees and lemonades as I wanted without Nugget stretching his hand out to drink or eat what I have, and then an evening of completing my Christmas cards without Nugget pulling on my leg, pulling on the envelopes or playing tug of war with the stamps. But then what do you know-the husband gets sick. He comes down the deadly stomach virus Nugget and I were still slightly recovering from. So there I went, irrated (because he was still sick as well) baby on my side, running around town like a mad woman. I couldn't help thinking, "This isn't fair."
The next day went the same. I had to get up early to take Nugget to appointments because the Husband was still to weak and tired. (Is it wrong that deep down I felt like he was milking it a little bit? I was throwing up with Nugget hanging off me and going through my day and Nuggets sick as a dog. I didn't get to lay in bed and rest.)
Then we left for the holidays and Nugget's 1st birthday and it was the same. He was cranky, tired and still not feeling up to par and wouldn't go to anyone besides me. No one! The one time that I had extra hands and arms to give my hip and ever growing belly a rest and he wouldn't take it.
So can I get a little bit of clearance on the whole B thing. At this point the B-ness is flowing through my veins more than blood. I need a break. I need a day off. And I need someone to walk with me, or for me, to one of all of the appointments.
"You know what that's called," my mother-in-law said as she tried to comfort my tears that spilled all over her living room. "That's motherhood."
Ah, motherhood. What else can I say?