I don't know how I'm going to keep T-boy contained.

He can scale the playpen.

He can climb up the front of the bookcase to pull things down.

He has discovered how to ride the recliner toward the window he wants to play in.

And just today he figured out how to climb over the gate that keeps him from playing in the bathroom, something I vigorously object to because my boy has a definite and difficult to relate to love for potty water.

Ack.

So now I have to literally cut him off from half of the house with the gates he still can't shimmy over yet.

I honestly wasn't prepared for this. John didn't insist on climbing over everything the way Trent does. I was completely unprepared.

I don't know how I'm going to keep up with him or maintain at least a reasonably clean house if I can't get him to stay in something, anything for a few minutes.

To recap, in the last week he:

* learned how to ride the recliner

* climb the bookcase

* climb down from his high chair

* climb over the gate in the bathroom doorway.

Last Thursday I told Larry I want an assistant. His reply?

"Blonde, big boobs and can start next week, right?"

"Wrong, Bucko. I want a short hairy chick who looks like Danny Devito so as to not tempt my husband, and I want her fat ass here bright and early tomorrow morning."

First off, to everyone who will take umbrage to the Danny Devito reference. I love his work and I think he's a cool guy. As far as looks go, I've seen far worse. My husband however, would not be at all attracted to a woman who resembles him, hence the reference.

Secondly, I was only half joking. I would love, love love an assistant to take the kids for an hour a day so I could shower and brush my teeth without having to wait until someone else was home and the timing of my request was convenient for them. Hey, I clean up after these people and cook their meals. I don't think a fucking hour to help myself feel clean is that huge a request. It would be so nice to have a long bubblebath and blow dry my hair.

I haven't had a bath since I was pregnant with Trent. I take showers because I always have to hurry. My brother gave me a raspberry bath bomb with some other goodies for my birthday last year. It occurred to me the other day as I was looking through our medicine cabinet that in a few weeks that thing will have been sitting there gathering dust for an entire year. Makes me wonder how much longer it will be there.

I have no problem with tending to my babies - I love them. It's just that Trent is so active and has become so unstoppable. I feel completely overwhelmed and I see the little opportunity I do get for quiet time during the day quickly disappearing. If I have to be in the same room with him the whole time he's awake how will I get other things done?

I have to go get Zoe now. She's been up for the last 90 minutes and won't go back to sleep. I'll be up with Trent and to see John off at 6:30.

I hate this.

Goddess knows I love my children but I hate this schedule and having to wait on other people to fit me into their schedules for even the simplest things. I shouldn't have to wait until it's convenient for someone else for me to get myself clean.

I feel as if my needs aren't even a priority, even my most basic ones - the ones that are the easiest to tend to.

I hate bitching and whining like this. I have to do it here though, because I think Larry is getting tired of me talking to him about these things. I've spoken to him several times recently about both the isolation and the shower issues and he seems to think I'm blowing things out of proportion and that I can do whatever I want whenever I want. I point out that I have to wait around for everyone else and am growing tired of it, giving specific examples of times when I was not able to shower because no one was able to watch the kids and he still thinks I'm wrong.

I gave examples, yet it makes no difference.

Perhaps that's because to acknowledge that a change needs to be made means making the effort to change it - and that means extra work for everyone else. So he tells me it's all in my mind and everything remains the same.

It must be nice to live with your head under a fucking rock.

I have a headache that's getting worse the longer I sit and write. I'll fix the typos tomorrow.

I'm going to try to get Zoe to sleep now. I hope she doesn't stay awake all night.

I can hear her up there in the playpen bouncing around. Looks like it's going to be a long night.