Do you ever have days where even the sound of your own familys' voices (especially when they are yelling/screaming/wailing/whining) just drive you to the end of your rope? Where all you want to do is turn in your letter of resignation but you don't know the proper procedure (to whom do I give it? do I give 2 weeks' notice? do I have to find and train my own replacement?) so the letter just sits in your mind?
THAT is the day I have been having. My children - usually good children - opted for the less-travelled route of evil spawn today. Little Man is rapidly approaching the "Terrible Twos" and is going full throttle on the practice. Anything and EVERYTHING he did today was designed to irritate the life out of both me and his sister. His sister didn't handle it as well as I did and thus, much yelling/screaming/whining/wailing ensued.
In addition, Princess Trouble seems to have gone through some overnight growth spurt, leaving her comlpletely incapable of remaining upright and unscathed for more than 2.3 minutes. It seemed like every time my butt hit the chair (or the toilet) she had fallen, tripped, or otherwise hurt herself. And, being the drama QUEEN that she is, she wailed like she had lost a limb.
Then, as icing on the cake, I greet this:
In the span of less than 5 minutes, Little Man had climbed into his crib. Rather than alert me to the situation, his sister decides to start tossing toys in to his crib.
By the ARMFUL.
EVERY book. EVERY car. EVERY pony. EVERY Barbie.
Somebody get me OFF this damn island before I lose what is left of my mind.
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