Blech Phooey and YUCK

Happy opens calendar on computer desktop to double check the day  Friday everyone! Yes, it's definitely happy Friday. This post might look a LOT like a rant by the time I'm done with it but don't worry... it's not. mmmhmm...

Where do I begin? Into my head comes the sarcastic voice of my husband saying "At the beginning, of course..."

Side note: Let me just say that he and I make a fierce and mighty team. When he's having a meltdown I'm solid rock. When I'm losing my mind he is freakin' Sherlock Holmes.

Today was one of those mind-be-gone days. Everything was making me sad, or crabby, or some other negative word. Our apartment is one of the few units in the building without air conditioning and it was 95 outside with 70% humidity. I've already accepted that I'm destined to have a frizzy, wear-your-hair-up kind of summer but today the weather was just laughing in my face. It chuckled when I swore, it giggled when I cried, and it split it's sides when I screamed at my son for climbling the furniture. I can't type that without pouting, I still feel bad. But I can't be "on it" all the time. Today was just not my day.

All day the only thing I wanted was to sit down and have a few cool breaths to myself while I cleared my head of the muck and gunk. When I tried that; however, I was met with opposition.



op·po·si·tion/ˌäpəˈziSHən/

Noun:

Resistance or dissent, expressed in action or argument.

Yes, that sounds about right. Someone constantly needed something from me: an ear, a shoulder, a hug, food, boobs. Being a wife, mother, new parent (again) puts a person in high demand.

No joke: as I was writing this post Taylen got his leg stuck in the crib rails and I had to throw on a shirt (again, thanks heat), bolt upstairs and request assistance from my kind neighbor to come help save him!

Of course now I finally have a moment to myself (husband is working, all three babies are sleeping, house is picked-up, laundry is drying...) and what do I choose to do? Blog. aaaahhhhh. breathes a sigh of relief  This is therapy to me.

Can someone please tell me that I'm not alone? I can't possibly be the only parent who has ever yelled at their child and wished it away in the same breath. There's no way I'm the only person who feels overwhelmed all. the. time. There have got to be women out there like me. I know all my fello blog-a-holics are like "heck yes, blogging is therapy to me, too!" and so thank you for that.

Baby girl has graced me with her presence (thank you acoustic new age radio station on Pandora.com for helping me see it that way) and so we'll be snuggling now. Goodnight all. And I mean it... good night.