It has been a few weeks since I last blogged. You may have thought I fell off the face of the earth, which would be a valid assumption. Where have I been? I have been treading water aka in Survival Mode the last few weeks.

When I used to hear “Survival Mode” I’d think back to my college days. Pulling all nighters for a big exam or to write a paper, stretching every last penny because college jobs didn’t pay well, and powering through a mean hangover to study on a Sunday night. What I didn’t realize at the time, and took for granted, was that I had unlimited opportunities to sleep. If I didn’t get enough sleep the night before, I’d take a nap to get caught up. Clearly, college life was rough.

With a 4 month old and a 3-year-old at home, and both my husband and I working full time, I now know the real meaning of Survival Mode. In four months my husband and I have not had one full nights sleep. The rare times that the baby has slept through the night, our toddler then feels the need to fill that void by creepily tip-toeing into our bedroom and breathing over top of one of us until we are awake. I’ve watched one too many scary movies in my life and there is nothing scarier than someone, even if it is your toddler, hovering over you while you sleep.

Three weeks ago our baby got sick. I had hoped that all the fun germs his older brother had been bringing home the first 12 weeks of his life meant we were going to skate past all the daycare sicknesses that babies usually get. I know it builds their immune system (so positive for them) but it also causes grey hair and wrinkles for us parents (negative for us).

When our baby got sick, we were in and out of the doctor’s office for a week straight. It wasn’t your normal cold. He was wheezing and coughing. The doctors gave him nebulizer treatments, a steroid, a chest x-ray (to check for pneumonia), he was tested for RSV and 2 different flus. Eventually he was diagnosed with bronchiolitis. Poor guy still has his wheeze and cough, and the little sleep he was getting is not happening anymore, unless we are holding him. Which also means no sleep for mom or dad.

Unfortunately, while our baby was sick, our toddler got sick too. As we were sitting at dinner last week and our toddler kept complaining about his throat hurting as he started to get up he then threw up all over the dinner table, which included my husband’s plate. It was like something out of the Exorcist.

All I could do was look at my husband and say, “Seriously?!?” This was the first time our son had ever thrown up like this. So it was new territory for us. Then my husband and I had a disagreement on when your kid is throwing up do you try to get them to the bathroom or let them continue to vomit repeatedly on a surface that is not the toilet. Suggestions welcomed as we seem to be divided on this topic.

Between all of the sicknesses, our toddler turned three. And then came the terrible threes. Aka we now have a threenager at home. At times he is so sweet I want to be around him all day, then there are times he grows horns and I count down the minutes until daycare dropoff.

One of those mornings when I was counting down the minutes until dropoff, our toddler said “Mom, I am not a gentleman, I am a kid.” I laughed and told him, “Well buddy you can be a gentleman and a kid.” He said, “No, Ms. Natale called us gentleman and I told her I am not. I am a kid.” All I could do was laugh. Nothing like having a 3-year-old around to remind you how literal they take things.

Then yesterday at soccer, I was once again reminded how literal toddlers are. I should give some background that our toddler LOVES football. He watches a lot of football on TV, has little football guys he runs plays with daily and plays football/tackles his dad and Pops (my stepdad) any chance he can get.

The three and four year-olds had finished up their skill drills and started playing a soccer game. During the game our toddler kept stiff-arming the other kids. At one point, his stiff-arm made another kid cry. I looked at my husband and said, “You need to go talk to him.” I was mortified. I appreciate his competitiveness, but I don’t want to have THAT kid who makes the other kids cry. I told my husband we need to work on the rules of each sport because our son currently thinks stiff-arms and tackling is for all sports. SMH. If you are wondering, the struggle is SO REAL with a 3-year-old.

Ever since I went back to work about a month ago, it feels like it has been one thing after another. My husband and I are still trying to catch our footing. I told him the other day I feel like we are stuck in Survival Mode with no light at the end of the tunnel. I am really hopeful with the weather finally getting warmer that things will start to calm down. If we can get everyone healthy and sleeping, I would consider that a HUGE victory.

So if you run into me and I look like a hot mess, it’s because I am currently a hot mess living in Survival Mode.