Granted, I was awake for a whopping seven hours yesterday, and I spent five of those at work, and the other two nursing little monster number three. Evidently, not enough.
She's determined to MAKE ME PAY for my absentee parenting. I'm not allowed to use the restroom. I'm not allowed to wash the dishes, that have multiplied at an alarming rate and are threatening to take over my next door neighbor's back yard. One day of momma being lazy equals roughly seventeen hours worth of back logged dishes. Her eyes, rimmed with red from sheer exhaustion, are defiant. She's staring at me from a precarious perch that involves one leg thrown haphazardly off the side of my wobbly green rocker, the other foot balance precariously on tiny toes while rocking back and forth as hard as she can.
She's squeaking at me like an angry chipmunk.
I've taken up the demeanor of one negotiating the lives of several dozen hostages.
If I approach her too quickly, surely she will tip forward, and break not only her head, but also the still unmopped floor.
Well, that game got boring. With lightning quickness and ignoring the laws of gravity, she has literally FLOWN across the room with a loud squeal...and ....there she goes with my blackberry. All I want to do is get a work out in and take a shower to get ready for tonight's open house, but I've had enough alone time according to MissAngelBaby.
She was even kind enough to let me know by breaking TWO Corell dishes in five minutes. The ones that are supposed to be unbreakable. The laws of science mean nothing to an angry toddler.
Yes, my dear child, I'm sorry I went to work last night. And I'm doubly sorry I took my sniffly, exhausted, cold infested rear to bed yesterday afternoon when I should have been baby worshipping.
Can I please keep the rest of my china?