falling apart

Wow, I appreciate the commiseration re: getting small fry out the door and into the car. Good thoughts, all. And I have to add that it isn't that Daughter doesn't want to come with me, it's just that it takes so dang long because she wants to take her sweet time and she is easily distracted. Usually I don't mind if we are delayed because she wants to sit on the driveway and observe a cool green bug, and if we're not in a hurry to get somewhere, but when she is just flitting around the house, running away and whatnot...well, that is what drives me to drink. Ay-yi-yi.

This has just been a tough week for me. Seems like I clean up a room, walk away, and when I come back there are seventy thousand little plastic pieces of crap all over the floor again. I can't get a meal on the table without having to stop and 'discipline' my child twelve times. I could barely get through the grocery shopping/schlepping/putting away yesterday, because it truly feels like every step is a battle with my child. I hope this is normal stuff for a 2 year old. Yesterday she told me this charming tidbit: "I bein' naughty...but I soooooooooo cute!"

Help me. Send booze. Or prozac. Or something.

I think I need to go hit the sewing machine for the duration of naptime. Might make me feel like I've accomplished something useful if I at least sew a few seams.