If it were Monday, i’d have to punch myself in the face because today would be the perfect example of the “Case of the Mondays” (if you haven’t seen Office Space… I can not explain the previous statement for you and I am saddened).
It started off pretty good. Holden SHOCKINGLY did not wake up at all last night.. and then 8:30 rolls around this morning and he’s still not awake, compared to his usual 7am or earlier wake-up.
I take his sleep in to mean he’s feeling better and it’s probably going to be a good day. He seemed to be in decent spirits.
Rule #1 of having a toddler: NEVER assume it’s going to be a good day! You’re just asking for trouble when you assume all will be shiny and glorious.
If you’re thinking the rest of our day was full of whining and meltdowns you would be correct. Not the typical meltdowns, though. I can deal with those for the most part. We’re talking about the full on “I’M DYING!” shrieks of hell coming from my child.
Today was one of those days where I don’t want to take credit for my normally wonderful child. Today, he is his father’s son.
Being able to blame your child’s hellacious actions on someone else, because they donated 50% of the chromosomes to create them? Priceless.
He wasn’t really feeling warm until well into the day, and well into my feeling of wanting to tear my hair out and go running down the street. The intense heat outside and my huge fat uncomfortable stomach kept me from doing that.
I swear, bad things will happen if he doesn’t wake up tomorrow morning NORMAL. Well… as normal as Holden can be (which isn’t normal at all, but you get the point). I’m not sure how much more ridiculous banshee screams I can take, or how many more toys can be taken away before there’s nothing left.
I wish I had the energy to write a funny post.. sadly I do not. The funny left me after the 45th tantrum of the day. Not even I can make funny out of that. Sure, the fact that his nose turns into a booger faucet after a good 3 minutes of solid screaming is relatively amusing.. but I can’t base an entire post on that and that alone.
One thing I do want to say while i’m in an uber-bitch mood? If you don’t know the baby’s name: you’re not gonna know until I pop him out (and i’ll pop him out when i’m good and ready, damnit)! STOP GUESSING! This is directed at you, you, you, you… you, you, you, and you. Probably could add more yous than that, I was just making a point.
We’re not tellin’ ’cause we’re not tellin’. And the names you keep guessing? EW! How well do you know us?? Heinous.
Even if you do guess his name, which you won’t (i’m positive of that), we still wouldn’t tell you.
And Holden ain’t tellin you either!
How you win at parenting pic.twitter.com/vFxCsfqmh7
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