Things are taking their sweet time about improving around these parts. It's getting really, ridiculously annoying. Scratch that. I think we've gone beyond annoying now and have stepped straight into driving me bat-shit crazy.
I went over to my friends' house last night - the ones with the gorgeous garden. They're great. They don't do that whole men in one room, women in the other that seems so prevalent (and annoying as hell) with many people I know. Plus, they're wicked smaht. We all hung out and played a few rounds of Balderdash. I was wiped and was home by 11:30. Good thing, too, because Boo woke up at 3 a.m., screaming her head off. TCBIM wasn't home - he'd gone out to play video games (getting his geek on) and planned to stay the night there. I brought Boo into bed with me and she would not go back to sleep. She kept playing with my hair and rustling around and talking to me. She finally started to drift off around 5:30 when, of course, The Bug woke up, wanting to be fed. We all fell asleep for a little while, but they were both up again around 7. TCBIM had come home at some point during all this and I made him take the girls downstairs so I could snooze in relative peace.
Needless to say, Boo was a total bear today. She had meltdown after meltdown. Every bump and knock was met with Sarah Bernhardt-esque dramatics. She wouldn't take a nap for love or money. Neither would The Bug. I finally, finally got The Bug to bed tonight and decided to let Boo stay up until she was good and tired. We sat and watched Blue's Clues (that girl loves her some Blue. And I like me some Steve.) and snuggled under a fleece. When I put her down, she only got out of bed once, compared to the 87 times the night before.
This whole move really seems to have kicked Boo's butt. She never climbed out of her crib before we moved. She'd go to bed without a fuss nearly every night. Now it's a constant struggle and every request is met with a most emphatic "No!" It's wearing me out. I don't like feeling this way about my kids, but right now, I am not enjoying them much at all. There are moments of fun, but they are far outnumbered by these hideous, mind-numbing stretches where one or both of them are shrieking their heads off over absolutely nothing at all. If I were my neighbours, I'd hate us.
I get so impatient when they're like this. I try so hard not to snap, to stay relatively calm, but at some point, I almost always lose it. I yell a lot and I hate that. It's such an easy habit to get into and I have to work so hard not to do it. My mother was a yeller. I remember her always being snappy and loud and so impatient with us and I really don't want to be like that. I just wish I could figure out how to get more patience because I don't want to fuck up my kids and make them think they're a burden, the way I always felt as a kid. I wish I didn't feel like I was doomed to repeat the same stupid shit my mother did with me. I hate this....