My daughters have been insanely cranky all day. It's completely my fault. It's summer and the schedule has more or less gone out the window. I've been relying on the "If they stay up late, surely they will sleep in." theory which - in case you were wondering - has been COMPLETELY debunked.
So they've been on my and my husband's last nerve today with the whining and the stubborn and the "I dont want to wear that pink dress, I want to wear THIS pink dress." even though dress number 2 is 2 sizes too large AND is currently being worn by her SISTER who is, as you can imagine, hell bent on keeping it on.
And then my husband took them to the pool at the gym which is AWESOME because they are all rapidly becoming AMAZING swimmers - EXCEPT that - OMG TIRED when they got home.
We played cards and they were YAWNING their heads off.
I, myself had a mini panic attack at 4am so I'm a bit tired myself and I REALLY wanted to skip showering them because they had showers last night except CHLORINE from the pool.
And please don't tell child services but we skipped baths anyway because, SANITY.
So I tuck them in (15 times) and then my 6yo gets up crying because she can't find her blankie and "will I please go downstairs and help her find it?" and "No I won't because you're supposed to leave it in your bed and we have this conversation EVERY DAY." and she goes downstairs alone and all you can hear are the sobs because maybe someone broke in and stole a 6yo fleece blanket that looks like it's been living in a mud puddle for the past 2 years at least.
And then, THANK GOODNESS, my husband walked into her bedroom to keep my 4yo in bed because if they both get out it's like a goat rodeo and soon everyone is running around "helping" and FUCK ME, I didn't need that.
Well, while my husband is in her bedroom he sees the "MISSING" blanket and my daughter comes back upstairs but she's so upset it takes her 5 minutes of CRYING INTO THE BLANKET to calm her down because she's so upset about the NOT-MISSING blanket. GOOD TIMES.
Then everyone gets into bed and I tuck them all in AGAIN and walk into my office and my ass hasn't hit the chair when the door to the girls room opens again and my 6yo walks in and says, "My toe hurts." and sticks it in my face.
And I look at it and say, "It looks like you might have scraped it.
"Oh" she says, sitting down. "Is there medicine for that?"
"NO." I tell her, desperately trying to hold my shit together.
"Well" she says, "That's disappointing." and she gets up and goes back to her room.
*Deep breaths*
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