Son is teething so my normally sweet, go-with-the-flow baby boy is ticked at the world. He isn't sleeping very well which doesn't help and eating is apparently hurting him so food is being turned down until he's so starving he screams like banshee and even then he just takes down what little bit makes his stomach stop trying to swallow itself. This combo leads to grumpy Son.
I'm not sure what Daughter has going on but I think it's a little cabin feverish. Yucky cloudy skies, cool temperatures and Daughter thinking that she has to be barefoot to be outside have not lent themselves to the idea of ruckus outdoor fun. Also, she's in that 'I can do everything myself even though I can't really quite do everything myself' phase so I hear her doing something and then all of a sudden whiny high-pitched frustrated screaming to which I ask "Do you need help?" and get the loving reply, "NO! I don't need you!" In other words, grumpy Daughter.
And then there's me. Son's waking up at least twice a night and not going straight back to sleep so 4 to 5 hours of sleep in two naps per night is what I've been averaging. Daughter's crazy whining about every little thing from not wanting to have breakfast to not wanting to go to bed and the entire day between means I'm having to argue my entire day away. Daughter has started taking showers with me so I don't even get those 5 minutes of throwing hot water at myself to myself anymore and HOT water is out of the question with her in there with me. I've been having 'monster beating a bass drum' headaches starting around noon about every other day lately. And I seem to be suffering from a slight cabin fever of my own. Add that all up and grumpy Mama.
Yesterday was a day of yelling, not listening, thinking food was not needed as well as sleep and a total 'I can do whatever I want' attitude...on everyone's part...I include myself in that statement. Add in Him who was far to chipper and far to removed from the anarchical-ness of our day and the following meltdown was inevitable!
So last night Daughter was refusing to eat her dinner of exactly what she asked for and instead kept walking away from the table to play with a pink balloon. Son was screaming tired and wanted to be cuddled but since I was spending all my time picking Daughter up to slap her back into the chair he wasn't being cuddled and was very verbal about his dismay. Him was on the computer trying to figure out how to download a video I had asked him to and was somewhat oblivious to how close the black scary clouds were. Daughter's balloon chasing antics finally led to her not paying attention to where she was going while not listening to me asking her repeatedly to sit down and eat. She bashed into the table leg, spilled her full glass of milk all over the table, chair and floor and knocked her entire meal off the table to the floor braking the plate. Zippy, our dog, quickly came to clean up the mess. I had to shoo him away so he didn't cut his tongue wide open on the jagged shards of plate. (Storm clouds are straight overhead now.) I grabbed the balloon and told Daughter, "You can have your balloon back when you finish your food!" She threw herself on the floor and started screaming, "I guess I never get to play with my balloon again!" Son was in the background trying to win the screaming contest. Zippy is whining at me wondering why he didn't get the floor food. (And bring on the thunder, lightning, and possibly a tornado in there somewhere.) I took said balloon, stretched the latex where said balloon was knotted and bit it! I let all the air out of said balloon, threw said balloon on the floor at Daughter's feet and screamed, "There! You have your freakin' balloon back! HAPPY?" I stormed out to the garage and just sat there for about five minutes of deep breathing. Not something for the highlight reel of "Good Mothering Moments" but...it FELT good! STUPID BALLOON! I SHOWED YOU! Shortly there after both kids went to bed and even though it was dark outside my sunshine came back in the form of a nice cold beer! CHEERS!
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