Irritated. Annoyed. Irked. Aggravated. Overstimulated. Whatever.
Some days, y'ever just wake up extra pissy? Nothing really wrong, no particular burr under my saddle, just feeling super grumpy. SUUUUUPER grumpy. Not that I wake up like Cinderella in the morning as it is, and the truest thing Greg ever said about me is that "she idles at pissy" (thus my use of the word "extra" above), but I just have the desire to hide in my closet all day today. The kids woke up fine, Samantha's feeling better today (she's been sick with tonsillitis), we had a great visit with our friend Jenny last night, Greg and I had some time together after the kids were in bed, and I slept OK...so why do I feel like someone's standing behind me flicking me on the back of my head, over and over? Grrr.
Let's see, what's on the list of what could be bugging me? Hmmmm....
Well, I don't have CRAP planned for Jackson's birthday yet, and it's coming. We're getting invites and info on other people's parties, and I have NO clue what we're doing for his.
Laundry. It's sitting behind me in my laundry room, threatening to leak out into my office, as per usual. Never done. Never even CLOSE to done. Always bitching at me from the other room...I need to move my office further away from the laundry room so I can't hear it. Ok, ok, so I could actually DO it, but whatever...let's don't cloud the issue with facts, alright?
Money. Why is there never enough? And why do we buy things we don't particularly need? And why do we shop for things we'll never use - no matter WHAT we try to convince ourselves of? ... and why is my son crawling around with his sister's underwear on his head? Hang on....
OK, back. What else. My dogs. They stink and they make noise and they have made our oh-so-sub-standard-to-Jenny-replacement HATE us because she gets barked at all the time. And probably what irritates me the MOST about my dogs is, honestly ... that I feel the way I do about them. The "me" from before my kids whispers in the back of my head about how much I adored and fawned over my dogs before the kids were born. They were my pride and joy. I bawled like a baby when Jake was in the hospital, and when Greta had the stomach flu we took shifts sleeping on the linoleum floor in the kitchen with her all night long. We took their pictures for Christmas, and bought them Halloween costumes, and took them for car rides, and bought them treats. Now they get to go exactly NOWHERE because they shed all over my van, they stink, and they are such spazzes that I can't STAND taking them anywhere. And it's not fair to them. They love us all so much, even the kids, and they started their lives with us SO pampered, and now they get treated like, well, dogs. Makes me sad that I can't feel the way I felt about them back then. I still love them, and I'll be crushed in my heart when we lose them, but it's different now. It makes Greg sad, too, because his heart (which is infinitely bigger than mine, I'm convinced...how else could he put up with me?) is still so full of love for them. He still rolls on the floor with them, lets them sneak into bed with us, runs with them, and sees the infinite cuteness that we both saw when they came to be ours. So I guess I probably mostly feel guilty because I used them as kid substitutes and now that I have the real thing, they have been knocked down the totem pole. Yeah, I'd say that's it.
Oh, and what has happened to eBay? Seriously, it's hard to get anything for less than full retail on there anymore, and I'm sick of it!
And, WHO, pray tell, told my son he could stand up and cruise and think about letting go and learn about balance? I am SURE there was no memo discussing that, and yet, there he is (now sans underwear hat) standing himself up at the chest freezer, which is MUCH taller than he, and grabbing the top.
So I guess it could be any number of things that's bugging me. So never mind, I've got LOTS of things to be pissy about, and I seem to have identified them all.
Gotta run. Samantha's upstairs finishing up her business in the bathroom and soon I'll hear "MOM - I need you to wipe me!" (although I'm not wanted in there beforehand because she "needs privacy"), and now Jackson is standing here grunting like mad, turning red, while he works on something else I'll get to wipe up here in just a minute. Add that to the marble-sized dried up dog turd that Samantha pointed out to me by the back door this morning, and I guess it's not so much a Sucky Saturday as it is a, well, a shitty one...ha ha...oh, great. Jackson just finished his business and then promptly plopped down on his butt. Can you say "squish"? Thank you, son.
Oy. Hope your Saturday is more fun than mine!