Nope… There it goes.

I sat down at my keyboard, all set to write a post and and then…

~poof~

Gone.

Stupid brain.

Guess I’ll talk about my day. Which is probably going to be kinda whiny. Sorry.

Last night, on the way to pick up the girls from My Mom’s, I got a call from Her Majesty, begging and pleading to spend the night there. She said My Mom had agreed to let The Peach stay too as long as Princess Punk watched her. Then I get there and only The Princess is staying. Which was kinda annoying. But I was tired and worn out and not really wanting to talk to anyone so I just acquiesced and went home, giggly toddler in tow. The house was a disaster area which was simultaneously amazing and annoying, considering it had been completely clean less than 24 hours prior. But I really didn’t give a crap anyway and I went to lay down in bed and play mindless games on my phone. The Peach was her usual grabby, wiggly, in-your-face self and subsequently irritated me to the point that I yelled at her so loud she cried. And then I let The Zen Master take her and I curled up into a ball and cried too. Because I am an asshole and I made this cheerful, exuberant, happy, beloved child unhappy and probably even scared. He brought her back in, freshly changed and jammied and the first thing she did was scoot over to me and lean her head on me and pat my boob. Which made me feel better and worse at the same time. It was a comforting gesture although her hand placement was a bit awkward. She was resistant to sleeping but finally passed out to the point we could transfer her to her own bed.

This of course did not last long. Long enough for me to just fall asleep. Not sure what time it was she woke up actually, but The Zen Master and my self were so comatose that we both stood awkwardly by our bedroom door for about 30 seconds trying to figure out exactly why we were both standing there before we realized that the hysterical screeching coming from down the hall was in fact, our offspring. She had clearly been crying for several minutes before we woke up and her cries had morphed into terrified screams which took her a good 10 minutes to recover from. At that point, there was obviously no getting her back in her own bed, so the spastic child bedded down with us. At 3am, I woke up for the 23rd time after being pummeled by a wildly flailing limb, sat up, turned around and saw a spider on my pillow.

I spent the remaining 2 hours before my alarm went off trying to sleep on the couch.

The Peach was bright and cheerful this morning. After being changed and dressed (by her father), she marched over to the counter and said, “zh zhoo?” Seeing the rather puzzled expression on my face, she yanked out the ever-present binky, pointed even more emphatically and said, “cah-coo?”

“Cracker?”

(emphatic nod) “Righyee!” (squeal and applause)

I handed her the PB&J cracker sandwich and stood there and watched with some amusement as she meticulously pulled the two halves apart and intently studied each side with a tiny frown on her face. Apparently they passed inspection because she stuck them back together and took a bite.

At this point, Fairy Dog decided he wanted to get to his dog bowl and swept past her in his customary flustered haste and knocked the cracker out of her hand and onto the floor.

Let me just pause here to say that this child has been witnessed eating items from off the floor, ground, high chair seat, in between the couch cushions, under the couch, Fairy Dog’s own food bowl and one time, because we were across the room and not fast enough to stop her, directly out of Fairy Dog’s mouth.

Anyway… The cracker hit the floor where she looked at it with astonishment. Then she looked at me. And then, as if someone had just stomped on her puppy, she Put on The Pout and wept. When I briefly suggested that she just go ahead and eat it, she looked at me with violence in her eyes and screeched, then wailed, “NAH! Nuuuuuhhhh…” More sniffling and The Pout.

And then she was fine.

Took her to My Mom’s house and tossed her on top of the unconscious teenager sprawled across the couch. And even in my current state, she made me smile… First, when she snuggled into her big sister (a brave thing considering the perpetual cloud of funky that seems to surround The Princess) and sighed hugely. And then, when I asked her, “Where’s Mima?” My Peach pointed up the stairs;

“Uht-tays?”

“Is she upstairs? I dunno? Where is she?”

(quizzical shrug)“I doh-nah?”

Then she clomped into the living room and looked under a table. “Noooo… I doh-nah…”

Just one table. Nowhere else in the room. As if My Mom was limited to under that one table as a hiding spot.

My Mom finally came downstairs where she was enthusiastically greeted by The Peach, promptly led over to the pantry and handed a fruit cup. Can’t say the kid doesn’t know what she wants…

Then I got in the car and headed to work, shut my door and attempted to push through The Numb and The Tired to just work. I actually managed to put on a cheerful face when forced to physically interact with coworkers and even talk to people somewhat. But mostly I just hid in my office. Because I knew if I interacted too long, the mask would slip and someone would ask, “Are you ok?” And I’d crumple.

So I worked.

And picked up the girls.

And went home.

And posted.

And that’s it for today.

Wondering if the holiday tomorrow will help the mood.

Guess I’ll find out.

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