I am tired. Not only should I be in bed, where I will toss and turn and never fall asleep, but I'm worn out. The girl scout meeting did me in. Dinner did me in. Sweet potatoes were on the menu, and while Maeve will eat them if they are shocked into a diabetic coma first, Sophia makes a big production of gagging on every bite and tears rolling down her cheeks. If it were the only thing she disliked, maybe I'd care. But the picky-picky is picking up and I have no sympathy. My kids are driving me crazy.
Yes, how novel. The woman about to give birth has two kids who are wearing her out. Never heard that before.
I actually had to physically dress Maeve this morning. She came down from the attic, plopped herself on my bed, and was still there at 8:20 (when Sophia is supposed to be at school) whining about being tired. So tonight, bedtime was 7:30. Maeve came downstairs at 9:30 to tell me that falling asleep was too hard, it was making her tired.
What do you say to that?
And Sophia then pulled her "But Mom, I want you" song and dance. Threats were made. They both went back upstairs crying. So much for an earlier bedtime.
They are good kids. I love them. I feel so blessed that they're both in my life, that Mike and I managed to have them, that they're healthy and happy and safe. I just...want them to live with the neighbors for the next month. Is that so wrong??