This has a LOT to do with my shitty inner mood today. I’m not feeling well and the child and I have been stuck inside for 3 days now. Today I was supposed to take her to meet a woman who will be able to look after her for a few hours once a week. Instead, we woke up to this. I can’t fucking walk in that shit. No. No. *I* could walk in that shit. I could walk in that shit just FINE. I can’t take the fucking baby out in that wind and snow and push 40 or 50 lbs of baby and carriage in that shit. That’s what I can’t do.
I better be able to get to that fucking appt tomorrow – even if I DO have to bundle her and put her in the shitty sled we found in the shed. I need milk, I need eggs, I need baby Tylenol, I need a phone card, and I need cash – and I have to walk to the plaza to do that. If I can just. do that much. I will be happy. It’ll be enough.
Please stop snowing. Please. PLEASE.
Ok. Now I’ve had my rant here and on twitter. I’m going to finish my tea and clean up from our morning of indoor FUN FUN FUN and start again.
Yeah we made crowns and she was a princess and I was too, and we danced and made music and played blocks and had tickles and a nice bath and some good picnic food and some tv shows and… I don’t know all the goddamn boring shit we’ve done for the last three days. Can I just be honest? This stuff is boring me to tears. I’ll have fun with it, with her yeah. Sure. It IS fun, it’s great to listen to her and watch her and see how she does things and play. I enjoy that sure. But not when I have to do this for hours, for 3, 4 days back to back. I will never make a child care worker. That sounds like an outer circle of hell to me. Kids all day with the fighting and the arguing and the whining and the reptetitiveness and. Jesus really? REALLY? You’re going to make me argue with you for a fucking HOUR about getting dressed to go to the park? When I’m only doing it so YOU can go to the park? AGAIN WITH THIS SHIT?
Bored. Oh my god, ya’ll, bored. I need a break.
So there you are. That’s the kind of mom I am. I’ll make her a crown sure, I’ll dance with her and make vanilla pudding so we can have a picnic in the middle of the living room with books and a treat, I’ll even do the goddamn arguing for an hour thing just to take her out when all I want to do is sleep. But I’m not. going. to pretend. I like it. Not here, not in the real world, not where she can’t hear me.
Don’t think I’m Suzy Sunshine just for her, though. I held shit together pretty well today – to be honest so did she, no major tantrums or arguing or blow ups – but the whining when I wasn’t quick enough to find her paints got to me and I YELLED right before I found them. And made her cry! Which is always fun for us. I love how I’ll yell “STOP WHINING” and she stops only to cry. That… man. That’s the badge of Great Parenting right there, fuckin A.
That will be a lot easier if she wakes up in a decent mood, but. Hhh. I am not. going to take this out on her.