Much too young to feel this old!!!!

When I last posted, I was in my 3rd day of non-smoking. Well, I made it to day 5, and caved. N and I decided we weren't feeling any better, and it was actually getting more difficult to not smoke as the days passed. Whoever came up with the notion that it got easier after 3 days LIED!!!! So, in the wake of our failure, we had a lazy holiday weekend. Then tragedy struck... our daughter broke her femur. She was trying to get out of bed, tangled her leg in the toddler rails, and the rest is gruesome history. When N realized something was seriously wrong, he laid her on the floor, and called for me. Her left leg was shorter than it's partner, making my poor baby girl scream and making me feel light-headed. I rode to the hospital on the stretcher with her, which was convenient in case I did actually faint. (It was close!!) After an ovenight stay in the hospital, during which the doctors used traction to do a closed reduction of her break, she was put in a Spica cast. For those of you not familiar with this fun device, it's a cast of her hips, with an area cut out for a diaper, and it extends down the broken leg to the toes, and the healthy leg to the knee. Put a nice bar in between the legs to make it sturdy, and you have a torture device from hell. Try making a 2 year old immobile from the waist down, and keeping her that way for at least 4 weeks. She's handling it well, and figuring out how to move herself a bit, not to mention how to manipulate us into catering to her every whim, but it is trying to say the least! The utter lack of sleep, and the constant demand for my attention is making me feel like the living dead. "B" is in need of something just about every moment of the day, (and night!) and "A" is pissed because he's feeling ignored. Then, in an attempt to provide some Mommy-time for "A", I took him to run some errands. He threw the most horrific tantrums the entire afternoon. I feel awful for him, because not only is his twin sister hurt, but he's frustrated as well. So it's a constant struggle to make both of my babies happy, and it's almost a futile concept. Add all of this to the normal stress of life, season with some "marital" arguments, and throw in a dash of guilt, since my baby keeps saying "Help me!" but there is nothing I can do for her. Blend together for 1 week, and you have a recipe for disaster. I want *my* mommy, but she's half way across the country!!! It's times like these I'd give anything for a nice Valium, or a clone to take over for a few hours!