Apparently all it takes to upset a Gentle Parent's gentle rhythm is growing a person inside you. As I write this entry, I simultaneously want to throw up, eat a pound of french fries, take a nap, and throw something at my dog. Who am I today??
It's no secret that Charlotte has bouts of sleeplessness at night from time to time, so I'm no stranger to under eye concealer. But last night's 800-Round sleep battle certainly didn't do my mood any favors. Neither did my neighbor coming over at nap time and sending my idiot dog into a frenzy. I've never wanted a tranquilizer dart for him more badly than I did today. Does anybody want a dog?
And if anyone is familiar with the side effects of taking Zofran for nausea, then I don't have to explain my horrendous tummy troubles. Well guess what...Charlotte has been attending Karate classes when I'm not looking and this week's homework is to kick me as many times as possible right in the gut at every.single.diaper.change. It's also apparently freakin' hysterical.
So I thought I'd do everyone around me a favor and take a hot bath. Maybe I'll relieve some stress, chill out a little bit you know? (I'm laughing an evil laugh in my head right now). No. No, that's not what happened. What DID happen was that my Curious George toddler dropped something, I can't remember what, behind the cabinet and when I bent down to pick it up I smacked the shit out of my forehead on the towel rack. And yes I'm going to say "shit" in this post because, you know what? Today is a shit day. And after I hit my head on the shit towel rack, Char put an entire roll of toilet paper into the bath water. Why on Earth would I leave toilet paper out for her to play with? What a shitty parenting move.
And if I have to pick up 5 million freakin' cheerios ONE MORE TIME I'm going to lose it. "Stop giving them to her, then" you say? You know what's surprisingly MORE annoying than picking up a shit load of cheerios 8 times a day? A whiney toddler who WANTS.HER.CHEERIOS...NOW!
I can't believe I've filled as much white space with my complaining as I have. I am not this person. My daughter does NOT drive me crazy. I don't want to sell my dog. I don't mind picking up messes. This is my welcome mat to prenancy while raising a toddler...