I made the unilateral decision tonight that no one in this household is more entitled to the last Sam Adams Latitutde 48 than I am. I am almost tempted to send Andy on one of those trips that pregnant women send their husbands on, like to DQ at midnight for a Blizzard, only I'd be sending him to the liquor store at 9 for a 12-pack.
What is UP with my daughter? Seriously, I made a few stops on the way home from work today so I could delay picking up the children and shorten the distance between the then-present and bedtime. Of course, I can't say with conviction that I would have been able to pass Target without stopping in, even on a good day, but I digress.
From the moment I put her in her car seat until pretty much the moment I put her down to bed, she is screaming. SCREAMING. I have no idea why, and I have no idea what to do about it. I don't think that she is in any kind of pain because since she had her surgery, her teachers have said she is happy, chatty, and giggly all day long. They've noticed a huge difference at school. I have also noticed a huge difference, but in the opposite direction. I did not think that was remotely possible.
Every day I psych myself up for it and try to talk myself into being patient, loving, and caring. And I am, but this is met with louder, more insistent screaming because Mommy, how DARE you try to comfort me! I know my frustration shows, and I know that whatever frustration she is feeling isn't helped in the least by me being frustrated. I guess in the end we just frustrate each other. Dealing with Liam on frazzled nerves doesn't work out so well for me (or him) either, and I find myself being short with him.
So anyways, I don't know what to do, other than wait it out and hope that perhaps one day (read: yesterday) she will snap out of it. And drink Sam Adams.
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