Bedtimes are so bad that I found myself feeling ill in the shower at 8 o'clock this morning because it was a new day and that meant bedtime was coming. It's that bad. Oh, and Grant is on lates this week (1pm - 11pm) so I'm dealing with bedtime on my own.
So it was the last straw when I found Noah's artwork all over my studio wall and doorframe today:
I mean, he's three. He should (and does) know better. Another bid for attention because clearly all that I'm giving him is not enough.
He also pooped on the carpet yesterday and ripped his buggy's raincover today. I'm at my wits' end with this child.
It also doesn't help that Daniel left the cellar freezer door open last night after putting some bread rolls in for me. It especially doesn't help that we are strapped financially and I'd just stocked up on barbecue meat, bread rolls and homemade pizzas.
I just want to run away right now. I need a good chunk of alone time (not going to happen soon,) a good cry (HIGHLY LIKELY) and to not be asked for / to do anything for a bit.
Okay I just broke a rib laughing at that last bit.
*SIGH*
