I'm hoping this morning was just a blip. A hormonal anomaly (say that ten times, fast). Jonah has been waking up an hour before his usual time, when it's still dark out, and now that he's in a bed it means he can climb out and come in looking for us (though it took him two months to figure this out). I am finding myself unable to cope. It's just too fucking early, 6 a.m., even though in less than two months' time I'm going to be intimately reacquainted with every hour on the [goddamn] clock.
Jonah is also incredibly whiny and needy lately, and my patience is just wearing thin. I gave him a very stern talking-to while wrestling his clothes on this morning, also telling him that it's time to stop being a baby and wearing diapers (as if he could just magically learn not to use them). It doesn't make me feel good to be harsh with him, and I wish I could stop myself, because all it seems to do is legitimize him snarling and yelling at me.
I went off to the gym when he left for school, and when I got back to the empty house and saw his jolly mess of toys spread out everywhere I just broke down. I was not a very good mother at all this morning. Which, with perky-positive spin applied, means there is room for improvement. But acres, acres of room.
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