Every single person in my house is having a very cranky day. My husband and I are both annoyed with the kids, and each other, the kids are cranky about everything…oh, my.
I actually got a decent amount of sleep last night. Just one incident that I remember: jerking awake from a nightmare, heart pounding so hard I was certain it was shaking the bed. I couldn’t catch my breath, had broken out in a cold sweat, and was sure I wouldn’t be able to fall back to sleep. Of course I did, immediately. And I don’t remember the dream at all, for all its horror.
Although we had given the kids instructions to go downstairs, put in a movie, and fix themselves breakfast upon waking, our daughter instead chose to come in before 7 a.m. and attempt to talk our ears off. Something important she just had to tell us– I don’t know, something about having the same books on her bookshelf that the teacher did…has she not yet figured out that I am not awake that early? I literally do not comprehend what she is saying; she may as well be speaking a foreign language.
I was extremely put out by her rudeness. How dare she? How dare she wake us up for this? After we specifically asked her not to? They are both old enough to care for themselves– to a degree– in the morning, and I now have the expectation that they will. So when they do not meet that expectation–crankiness ensues. Also, she woke up her brother, and with his many sleep issues, I find that to be an Unforgivable Offense. Then they fought. Hearing their squabbling in my half-awake state is never a good way to begin my day. It sets a tone that never bodes well.
Eventually, my husband got up with them, and went about his day. He is a morning person; I, clearly, am not. I can not tell you how much I appreciate that he gets up with them. I do it at night: for illness, nightmares, their various bouts of insomnia, taking the girl back to bed after she crawls in with us. But at some point in the morning, about 4 or 5, I hit my coma time, after which point I can not be awakened easily for just about anything. Emergencies, yes. To dress a Polly Pocket doll? No.
My husband headed out for his morning run and a trip to the Regional Farmer’s Market, so I got up and made my way down. On Facebook I read about many friends heading downtown to the St. Patrick’s Day parade. I had planned to take the girl down there, but wasn’t sure, considering the mood we were both in. However, we did the cleaning we needed to do and I decided to chance it.
Big mistake. Both of the men in our household dislike parades so they remained home. They were the lucky ones. Public drunkenness, smoking, profanity– it all turned me right off. I love my city, and that sort of thing happens everywhere, but…ew. We found a spot to stand where my daughter could see, but she wouldn’t leave my side and stand behind the barricade, so people kept shoving their way in front of her. She wouldn’t stand up for herself, she wouldn’t move up where I told her to. She just whined at me, about not being able to see, about being hungry (for cotton candy), thirsty (for soda), wanting a balloon.
We came home early.
This was another of those occasions where I think about how much fun things could have been without children. That doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s bad. Because I feel like a horrible person, so I have guilt, and regret, and still that longing. I had brought her down because I wanted to have a little fun, enjoy the beautiful sunshine, and maybe hook up with a few friends.
Well, the sunshine was nice, at least.
Tonight the babysitter is coming over, so my husband and I can go out together. We definitely need it; at this point, I am just hoping we can both snap out of this in time to enjoy ourselves.
In the meantime, I am going to grab a piece of chocolate, and immerse myself in reading.