Let me start by saying that I love the hell out of my kids.
But oh my god, they are killing me, right now.
Baby C is smack dab in the middle of a lovely sleep regression. He sometimes wakes at 4 or 5am for an hour or so, at which point I have to whisk him out of the bedroom so that he doesn’t wake the Threenager, too.
Soooo, lucky me, I get to lie with him on the couch while he babbles away, until he drifts back to sleep. I generally curl up in fetal position around him so that I don’t have to be upright in my zombie-like state, and it’s happened on more than one occasion that we’ve both just drifted off there for a few hours. My neck has really been responding well to this fun new position! I actually haven’t been able to fully turn my head to the right or left for several weeks now. Awesome.
The other night, he did the same thing…at 2am. For 90 minutes.
THAT, my friends, is why I don’t shrink from calling my kids assholes, occasionally.
So between that and the Threenager completely refusing to go on the potty all day yesterday, walking into baby C while he was in the jolly jumper and knocking herself in the face with the damn thing, and generally being disagreeable (perhaps too much butter the other night?), things reached a fever pitch right in time for dinner.
There’s nothing like a kid sitting at the table, eating macaroni & cheese, whilst telling everyone in the room “I am NOT eating macaroni and cheese right now.”
Riiiiiiiiiiight. Whatever you say, kiddo.
Needless to say, after they were both asleep in bed, I went ahead and made myself some easy, almost-healthy chocolate chip cookies from one of my favourite sites for easy, almost-healthy desserts.
They’re made with oat flour, so technically they’re helping with breastmilk production! So, yes. I ate five. At 10pm. And two for breakfast this morning.