I have been exceedingly grouchy today. I don’t doubt that I am not much fun to be around right now. I just want to be left alone in peace and quiet and, of course, I’m not. I have told Finn to go away, to shut up and even snarled at him once. I will pay the therapist’s bills when the time comes to atone for my sins.
I can’t claim tiredness as my excuse. Last night I went to bed at about 8pm and Mark sat up to do the late feed with Leila. I got up briefly during the night when the baby got herself wedged in the corner of her cradle and then stayed in bed until she woke at 7am. That’s the most sleep I’ve had in months.
In my defense, though, I will blame Finn, pathetic though it is to blame a 3 year old boy for my grouchiness. This week he has seemed particularly pesky in the way of having to be asked repeatedly before he will do things, giving a contrary response to pretty much everything I say to him and making a mess or destroying something at every opportunity. My patience has worn thin and frayed. Now there’s a hole in it through which “go away” and “shut up” are escaping. If Finn were a little older “just wait until your father gets home” would feature too.
I am looking forward to Mark getting home. Finn will be excited to have his dad home and that will probably make his behaviour worse, but it will give me an ally. Right now I feel rather outgunned by the 3 year old.