Re-entry

I am still a total space cadet. I don't know what it is about my event that causes me to feel like I've taken several sleeping pills for weeks after; it's not like the old days where I'd be so stressed out I wouldn't eat or sleep for weeks before. Now I manage to live pretty normally during the prep time, other than having the feeling of needing to be "on" for several weeks (the phone calls and emails never stop during August). Still here it is two weeks later and I still have to double check that I'm not driving up the off ramp of freeways.

Now that Camp is over I need to tackle my epic "post event to do list", which mostly consists of getting rid of crap. I took the liberty of dumping a bunch of baby stuff on the street because I couldn't be buggered to try to sell or pass them on; they were gone within minutes (my street is cool like that). But there's so much more - tons of clothes, breastfeeding paraphernalia, infant stuff I will never use again. I need to cull the toys and books and STUFF. We're bursting at the seams here.

I also need to get T into the next phase of life - I got rid of his germy little clip-on high chair and have him in B's high chair now (that went over like a lead balloon), I need to get him good walking shoes and graduate him from onesies to pants and shirts, and I desperately need a tall crib before he starts jumping out of the pack 'n play he currently sleeps in. The last item is no joke since he sleeps in the attic space that only has a pull-down trap door to access it; every day I check the baby monitor to make sure he's still contained before I open it otherwise the consequences could be disastrous. Unfortunately I don't trust him and Bobby alone in a bedroom together (B still doesn't understand the concept of not sitting on/smothering/kicking the head of baby brother) so he has to stay up in the attic for the time being. So I have to invest in a TALL crib that he can't climb out of. And that has to happen pretty much now.

Bobby - well, Bobby's three. I knew three would be hard, and I still maintain it's not as hard as two (although I had a new baby the whole time B was two so I'm sure that exaggerated my frustrations), but three is hard. Bobby contradicts everything I say, shouts orders at me all day long, refuses to do anything I ask, lolly gags all day (just getting in the car ages me about ten years), bosses around his brother non-stop, and generally drives me freaking nuts. And potty training - don't get me started. It's gone from bad to worse. He is, for all intents and purposes, potty trained at school, but he still has accidents more or less daily. And flatly refuses to use the potty at home or wear underpants ever. He used to always go potty before bed but now he won't even do that. I am at my wits end. I have yet to be really heavy handed about it because everyone tells you that's exactly what not to do - but at what point do I start forcing him, or do I wait until he decides to do it on his own? The child is 3 1/2. As we speak he's lying in bed in a sopping wet diaper refusing to be changed. Is he still going to be in diapers in kindergarten? Right now I feel desperate and like a big fat fucking failure. But at the moment I still have so many loose ends from my event to tie up and I'm so out of it I kind of just can't deal.

Other than that, everything's going great.