Pity Party

Fun post coming up - we have a few good things to report, but today is one of "those" days and I want to get it out there; in hopes of course of finding some sympathy, support, understanding, whatever. I love my kids - all of them. Jack and Dasha have an extra portion of my being, maybe it's protectiveness, apprehension for their future, whatever, but it's different from how I feel about my big kids. I will always be so very grateful to have been given the blessing of Jackson. It still takes my breath away sometimes that my family was chosen to be the guardians of such a precious gift. I've learned so much, met so many awesome people, had so many opportunities to grow - all because of him. Even Dasha is here because he got here first. We knew he had Ds before his birth, courtesy of an amnio. I loved his baby toe gap and little almond shaped eyes from the second I saw them. We already had our adjustment period - his birth was pure celebration. He grew and met milestones later than typically developing kids but he entertained us, and was always so sweet and precious. But the other day it hit me - my "babies" aren't babies anymore. People don't gush over their cuteness as much anymore. They're 6 1/2 and 5. The delays are more obvious. I'm starting to get frustrated with things. Potty training might actually kill me. We've been working on it (really trying) for a year and a half. We've been telling Dasha for at least that long that she may not remove every DVD from the shelf every day. (She did it to books too but I actually turned the bookcase around so they can't even get to their books.) I'm frustrated with the complete lack of progress in things we've been doing for years. They ARE learning; but the things I have been telling them to do/not do on a daily basis, multiple times a day, is making me crazy. I'm out of patience, I'm frustrated, I'm tired of getting mad at my kids. I don't have friends to vent to (there are a few but none that I talk to on any kind of regular basis), my family doesn't get it, my husband is completely clueless, unsupportive, not the guy I married. He doesn't want to hear about it. He doesn't help. He doesn't try to do things in the different way we need to parent these little ones. My fb seems to be the place I feel most comfortable and even then I don't do a lot of sharing. It would be awesome to have a break, get away without the responsibility for a night. But that doesn't happen. Ever. 99% of the time I really am okay with that; I miss them sometimes when I'm gone for a few hours. But right now, this summer, I'm burned out. It's hitting me that this is reality - they need to be supervised constantly. I can't go to the bathroom, go check on laundry, or make a phone call without someone to watch them. It's hard to take them places. They run. I have to have a hand on them AT ALL TIMES. It makes something as simple as going in to buy a soda by myself with one nearly impossible; with both I don't even bother thinking about it. I may add some specific things that they do later as I think of them. I'm a bit overwhelmed wallowing in my pity party today.