Right now, Miss Cranky Butt and I have been separated, because otherwise, I fear I may lose it and finally stick my head in the oven. Ever have one of those days where you just repeat in your head, "you chose to have a child, you chose to have a child," to keep your sanity? This is my day....
This is how I was woken up today: a removed, thankfully clean, pullup was shoved in my face at 7:14am. That, so far, has been the highlight of my day. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but CALGON TAKE ME AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!
The sickness has still not died, it lives on in the form of a deep, hacking cough. Benadryl has been administered. I'm finding myself in a Catch-22, though, because part of me hopes she drops into a nap, and part of me wants her to stay up and go to bed relatively early, so that I can watch Grey's and Private Practice in relative peace, if they're even on. And now I want to read that book....
But this is how my morning has been:
Miss CB: "Let's play downstairs"
Mommy: "You need to eat your waffle first."
Miss CB: wrenches face into pathetic baby scowl, pulls strand of hair out of ponytail, picks up plate, and throws it across the room, screaming and crying...
Mommy: "Well there goes playing downstairs for the rest of the day...and if you keep that screaming up, the rest of your life."
Stay tuned....
**UPDATE** Given a chance for simple redemption, an opportunity to regain access to her Downstairs Queendom: poop on the potty. We will remain above ground for the remainder of the day....
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