I have had an awful morning. Well, really it’s just been an extension of an awful night. It’s hard to tell where night ended and morning began. I was hoping to have some sort of witty one-liners to entertain you all with, but today has had other plans. I am dismal. I feel dismal. Even the weak sunshine coming through my window is dismal. I’m pretty sure the clouds are winning. Which is also dismal.

Word of the day: Dismal, meaning “causing a mood of gloom or depression” according to my favorite search engine.

On my list of awesome dismal-tacular events, a terrible sleep. Littlest has been teething, and all but one of his teeth have finished coming through, but last night… Oh boy! He woke up 4 times in under an hour. Each time was directly after I fell back to sleep. By the fourth wake up, my internal temperature gauge was confused, to the point of being both hot and cold and sweating. My clock was also screwed up, which I felt for the rest of the night. That hour felt like 8 had been combined into one, and the 5 hours after felt like they’d been combined into about 48 seconds.

When Biggest woke up (5:46am every morning), he was happy as a clam. Until I fed him. I guess his stomach was hungry for everything but Cheerios. Nevermind that he gets Cheerios every morning, and has happily eaten them. Every morning. Every morning except this one, it seems. Normally I encourage him to finish his cereal, because generally he gets bored part way through, and decides there’s other things he’d rather be doing. Normally he complies. Not this morning. I’m pretty sure he ate 3 bites. Littlest screamed until he was picked up, screamed while he was in his Bumbo waiting for food, screamed while he was eating, screamed after he was eating, and finally stopped screaming when I put him in his bouncer. At this point, I love that bouncer so much, I may just make a statue of it after it’s done being used. That could just be the morning talking though.

I went back to bed. The kids played in their room. I woke up on my own. I thought the day had gotten better.

I got up, the kids started screaming again. Littlest didn’t want to be left alone because his teeth are making him miserable. Biggest didn’t want to be left out. Admittedly, Biggest didn’t scream so much as cling, lean, whine, glom, and generally invade whatever  was left of this shell I like to call a body. He paused for a nice moment while we were watching our shows this morning. Went off to play, and about an hour ago… Well let’s just say he is now wishing he’d eaten his cereal. There’s only so much I’ve got for a snack, and as much as I’d like to give him back his cereal… I’m pretty sure it’s now in the process of violating a health code.

Which brings me to now. 45 snack requests later, a broken truck that he knows I won’t fix but still broke so he could ask anyway, a whining baby who can’t move despite wishing he could, a hyper 2 year old, a further leaned-whined-glomed-invaded mom, and I’m huddling in my corner trying not to go into the crazy rocking-strait-jacket mode that is threatening to make an appearance. And it’s not even 10 yet.

Dear Lord, please let nap time happen soon.

The Handler


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