Have you ever heard that phrase, "Psychiatrists say that one out of every 4 people is certifiably insane. Check 3 friends. If they're okay, you're it." A real knee slapper, I know.
I bring this up because my daughter, I love her dearly, was a real piece of work yesterday. Work being the most important word in that last sentence. Nothing went smoothly. She threw fits at everything I did. If she started to go upstairs and I followed her, she got upset. If I changed her diaper, she promptly smeared poop all over the wall. If I tickled her tummy, she screamed in anger. If I took her to the park, she went down the slide headfirst. You get the idea.
My patience was running paper-thin by the time Hubby pulled into the driveway at 5:30. Yes, 5:30. Technically speaking, he could have been home at 5:00 - maybe 5:10 considering drive time. But no. It was 5:30. And those 20 extra minutes were just about the end of me. He walked in the door to see one girl screaming and one girl rocking back and forth in the corner. I. Was. Done.
I'm sure this happens to other people, but I felt like one big utter flop. The more I think about it, the more I wonder if it really wasn't her fault. Yeah, okay, so she was a little high maintenance. This should not be new to me. But me, I didn't have the patience or the energy or the guts to keep up with her anymore.
It reminds me of something that happened a few Sundays ago. It was after church and PetePete and I were waiting for Hubby to get done rolling around in the money from the offering...oh, that's right, he doesn't do that...er...counting the money from the offering. I had actually broken a sweat because I was literally chasing Reagan around the entire building. When I wasn't, we were wrestling. I was out of breath and exhausted. I said to one of my friends, "I can't believe she has this much energy!" And he said, "Yeah, you just need more of it, MOM!"
Sigh. He's right.