pass the kleenex

i have spent the last three days crying.

saturday and sunday, i was consumed by the new h.p., and basically wept right through it. but that's not a spoiler! it wasn't all sad crying—some of it was happy crying, and most of it was just "dear god i've known these people for almost 10 years i can't take any more ups and downs and highs and lows and i am emotionally drained !" (i'm halfway through my second reading now, much less crying.)

then this afternoon wile and i had to cry together for a little while. he's still not napping yet still really needing the nap, and sometimes the afternoons get a little hairy. today gwen was here for a few hours, which was mostly fantastic. they laughed their heads off at everything, and were really sweet with each other—gwen patted wile's head when he bonked his knee, he always asked her if she was okay when she fell down. they also invented a new game, when wile was naked after he escaped me mid-diaper change, in which gwen would chase him around the house then tackle him onto his bed and tickle him in his happy zone, which she told me was called "tic tac toe penis." i cannot make this shit up.

anyway, the highest highs are, of course, ususally followed by the lowest lows, so by the time mona came to get gwen, wile was teetering on the brink of meltdown, and then jumped right over the edge. he wanted to read a book, but didn't want gwen touching it, which he told us all about very very loudly. so i told him we would wait till they left, but that wasn't the right answer. so i left him on the couch screeching while i said goodbye to mona and gwen, then had him yell for at least ten minutes about how he did not want me to say goodbye to them, how i should never do that again. i tried to take him upstairs to calm down, but he couldn't. and that's what he told me: "i can't stop crying!" that's when i started crying. partially because we were on minute 30 of screaming crying now and it was wearing on my nerves, and partially because i know all too well the feeling of not being able to stop crying from my intense pms days, and it's fairly awful, and hard enough to deal with when you're 20, but must be even harder and scary when you're 3. so i suggested we lie down, but no. then he bit his tongue and insisted that i put boo-boo cream on it. i told him that we didn't have any boo-boo cream that could go in his mouth. he told me we did, and that if i'd carry him into the bathroom he'd show it to me. okay. so when i opened the bathroom cabinet and he didn't find what he had imagined might be there, it took the crying to a new level.

finally he quieted down to the point where i could suggest food, and thankfully he said yes to that. then he wanted a bun. okay. i took one out of the freezer, and he started crying again. he didn't want it cold. could i put it in the microwave? no. toaster? no. what he wanted, and i quote, was "a bun from the warm frigerator!" the what now? apparently he would like us to have a refrigerator that keeps food warm, not cold. because he doesn't want food cold. he wants food warm. we spent a good 10 minutes on that one. i'm still not sure that i have him convinced that there's no such thing as a "warm refrigerator", but i think i at least convinced him that we don't own one.

he let me microwave-defrost the bun, ate it, then told me that he wanted to go upstairs and lie down. alright, then! we went up, he got into his bed. he asked me for his train to play with, i gave it to him but told him he had to stay in bed. he said fine. i told him to call me if he needed anything, and walked out of his room. he called, "see you later, mama!" half an hour later, around 5, he was asleep. here's hoping he doesn't wake up till morning.

i think i should be done crying for the week, though. the only thing i have on my schedule for the next few days is a few mets games, and as we all know.....