Three is here with a vengence
Oh man. I am completely wiped out and tired of this week. Three is here with a vengeance and I’m ready for things to steady out. I need to go back and read my journal from when Erik was three to see what his major malfunction was. I think it was a lot of screaming and not cooperating.
Elsa’s major malfunction is taking everything so personally and crying uncontrollably over every real or perceived problem. Don’t you dare look at her. If she decides it hurts, she’ll cry so hard you’ll be looking for the bee that stung her.
We had 45 minutes of hysterical screaming because she didn’t want lemonade. Completely random. I don’t drink lemonade. She was not offered lemonade. She’s never been offered lemonade. She’s never HAD lemonade. We’ve never discussed lemonade. She was sitting on the floor, playing with toys. Suddenly she was screaming about not wanting lemonade.
Someone better grant me some patience, STAT. Mike is stressed out over work and working super late, which gives me almost no time to cook a proper dinner. Erik is having behavioral issues at school (talking, non-stop. Shocker). My house is a pigzaster, which I should be working on right now. I want to re-organize my kitchen, but first I need to sand down and paint a book shelf that someone gave me that is a key part of the plan. It is raining right now so I can’t start that project.
Woe is me, woe is me.
Life is not bad, it is just irksome. I need to break out a to-do list and calm myself down. I always forget how much that helps me focus.
I also need to stop with the afternoon socializing. That’s my cleaning time and I’m giving it up to go on playdates. I much rather socialize than scrub a toilet, but I guess there are times in this life when a toilet really needs to be scrubbed.
Also, I hate being a giant, fat cow. Eating chocolate all day to relieve the stress adds to my self-hatred. Looks like I could figure out that I need to stick to the damned diet, but I am a super cranky person when I’m dieting and am mean to my kids. Given the option of a slightly less fat, but grumpy mom or a fat, nice mom I am guessing they are going for nice. Now, just tell that to my damned pants. Maybe I could start by quitting the chocolate habit. I don’t want to hear one single hint, tip or weight loss crap. I know it is a problem with my own brain and I am my own worst enemy. I can’t seem to stop myself.