Okay, the time at the tone is 9:59 pm and I refuse to stay up late voluntarily. So this will literally be whatever falls out of my head and onto the screen. Take it as you will.
This week has been three consecutive sleepless nights, followed by three consecutive days of show downs - one at the park, where I had my kids and the neighbors' kids (four under three in my care) and was meeting some families from the church. There was a poopy diaper involved, and hungry babies, and Silas teetering toward oblivion - and Asher chose that moment (of course) to run away from me and I just lost my cool. I rarely do that but I did that day, in front of God and the pastor's wife and everybody ... afterward I felt about half inch tall and even though nobody else cared around me, even though to them I was just another mom fussing at her child, I don't like being that mom. It always reminds me of neighbor when I was a kid who used to tell other mothers how much she loved children then turn around and scream at her own. I so don't want to be that mother. But Tuesday, for five minutes, I was.
That moment, sandwiched between two days that both included hours of pleasantness and calm, followed by hours-long, kicking/biting/screaming tantrums. (In public, always in public. Asher never has a tantrum at home.) One day it took me THIRTY FIVE MINUTES to get him in the car. No lie.
Good word. It's enough to knock the wind of out me.
Today was better, but in addition to my very own living breathing quandry - why are you having tantrums, child? - I have projects - with real deadlines, not self-imposed ones - literally stacked up around me.
It's so bad I had a Reese's cup AND ice cream today.
Send reinforcements. Chocolate counts.
The end. 10:09 and I'm out.