The Queen's Rambles

I’ve been in a craptacular mood today. I have had to actively work to bite my tongue. I have so many really rude comments I could make to strangers. And not-so-strangers. Basically, I am seeing everything through a red haze of negativity and I hate that. That’s not the person I want to be. I hope tomorrow is a brighter day and I don’t fantasize about killing anyone.

Erik was really whining and clingy today as well. I don’t know if it was a reaction to my bad mood or part of the cause of my bad mood. Maybe we both just feed off each other. Poor kid had several crying meltdowns the likes of which we rarely see around these parts. At one point he was jumping around on my lap and my fingernail scratched his face. He thought I did it on purpose and cried and cried and cried and kept saying “you hurt me, mommy! Why did you hurt me?” About broke my cold, widdle heart.

He finally had his holiday program today, which felt a little strange since the holiday is over. The original date was snowed out, thus the mid-January date. What a mad house. I couldn’t see anything, but finally I was able to scootch over a little and peek at Erik’s face. He was adorable. He was also the only one in his class who was actually singing. There were several classes combined and some of those classes had singers, but his class is made up of mostly shy kids. I may not have been able to see him well, but I could hear him loud and clear, including his “Am I singing loud, Mrs. Love?” at the end of every song. It probably would have been a fairly pleasant experience if I didn’t have my negative Nelly glasses firmly in place.

Afterwards we went to an open house for another preschool. I really wanted to send Erik to this new preschool next year because the hours made a lot more sense. He would be gone from 9-1:30 every single day. I think he would have enjoyed it and I know it would have been good for me and the baby to have some bonding time.

As soon as we got home from the open house, I filled out the form and wrote out the check to register for his current school. There was just a really off feeling about this other place. For one, they have 20 kids per class with one teacher and one aid. His current place has 12 students with one teacher and one aid. Twenty is way too many preschoolers for two people to handle. It also seemed like it was more of a low income solution. The place we go now is not prestigious or anything glamorous. In fact, it is actually the cheapest preschool we’ve found, but this other place just didn’t seem to have the quality of students that I was looking for.

I’m fairly disappointed because I was so set on those hours, but oh well. Gotta do what’s best for the boy. Well. What would really be best is the super fancy preschool that my friend sends her son to. No way we can afford that! I guess I should say we gotta do what’s best and what’s within our budget.

On a completely different note, Erik has been singing “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk” all day long. I’m slightly disturbed, since the Badonkadonk part is supposed to represent a woman’s ass moving in time to the music. I suppose it could be worse. He could be singing “Rockin’ the Beer Gut,” quite possibly the worst song in the history of country music. It’s about a guy who sees a chick with a big beer gut and thinks she’s hot. I suppose that’s a good, fat friendly message, but the lyrics and tune are both painful. I first heard it on the airplane and decided it must be the Swedes idea of country music. I didn’t recognize most of the music they were playing on their country channel. I guess it is not Swedish, though, because they are playing it on the country digital music station. Gag. I’m so glad my local country station hasn’t been playing it. It was probably voted off the air.

I guess I better go to bed and see if I can wake up on the right side of the bed tomorrow. First, I have to go slather aquaphor all over Erik’s face. The kid won’t stop licking his lips and has a huge chapped area underneath his bottom lip. I know it has to hurt, but he won’t wear chapstick or anything like that. He’ll let me put it on, but then he just rubs it all over my shirt (no wonder all my shirts have grease stains) then licks his lips even more. I have to do a stealth night attack, but I’m not sure how much good it does. Last night I think it gave him nightmares because he was shouting “No! No!”