That's basically how I feel this morning. Yesterday was so bloody long. My daughter has hit the terrible twos with a force that would give a normal mommy whiplash. Last night at dinner she absolutely refused every single thing the rest of us were eating and then proceeded to SCREAM ALL NIGHT LONG. No she's not sick, she's just a terror.
I've now come to realize, what I always have known in the back of my head. Elijah was not good preparation for being a mom. One of my friends in my mom's group, who watched him and the other kids last week, told me he was a "saint'. Yup, Saint Elijah, that sounds about right.
I'm kidding, really. He has his moments too. They're just much milder and less frequent than his sister's moments. See, right now he's reading quietly in the library. In a minute I'll ask him to go get dressed and do his chores, which he will most likely do without a fuss. Meanwhile his sister is hanging on my leg saying something over and over again. What is that? "I poop I poop". Uh oh.
Okay. Now what was I saying? I'M LEAVING IN TWO DAYS!
That's all. Carry on.