That someone who isn’t even three feet tall can make our entire house look like a cyclone went through it? Without help.
And why is it that same little person can leave two grown adults feeling completely exhausted and *done*, again, without help?
It’s a mystery. I thought two against one was supposed to mean we’re stronger and one step ahead.
Last night was the last night of Carnival weekend here in Haiti so there was plenty of noise. Until 3:30 am. I know what time it was because same said little person was awake for about an hour so I heard it go all quiet. While we rocked and rocked. We had already been woken up twice by rocks landing on our roof. I wish they could have all gotten their acts together and combined efforts so we could have gotten sleep in more than two point five hour intervals.
Same said little person also woke up with a runny nose. And is molar teething. She did pretty good all morning, had a lovely, LONG nap, and was all happy when she woke up. Then it was all down hill from there.
I was working on my WIP (work in progress) upstairs in our room. Also known as the quilt made for people that insist they don’t steal the covers. Meaning it will be big enough for one to mummy wrap and leave the other still covered. I was trying to give Chris some time to chill out and be happy with Liv wandering around up there with me. Even though it means that everything in our room is now in different places, mainly on the floor. And my WIP has little foot prints all over it. And she wanted to pull my hot iron down off the ironing board. And she would shake my sewing table violently when I was trying to sew in straight lines. The steps were finally blocked off so I could get some peace. Then came the fish. Chris went to buy one, and rinse, repeat. When we buy a fish we have to deal with it right away, which means cutting it up by any means necessary, then bagging it and freezing it. It’s messy and having a less than three foot high helper would not in fact be helpful. Rinsing and repeating. Except that during this rinse cycle I actually had the WIP on the floor, all taped down so I could baste it, or rather put PINS in it to hold it all together when I sewed it. Little Miss thought it was a fabulous time to come and see what Mommy was doing. Picture me picturing her with stick pins sticking out of her knees. There were repeated attempts at sticking her hand right in my pin box, and several hand slaps, “nos” and tears. It was all very frustrating and sad. And there was still fish. The melt down then continued into dinner. And a bit into bath time. And even as I write and pj’s are being slapped on there is whining. And Chris’ computer keeps shouting random things!
Today is one of those days where I feel like I should have gone back to bed right after I got out and where I’ve been reminded that it is in fact possible for a 13 month old to hand you your butt on a platter.
And then the second that she comes peeking around the corner stark naked just waiting for me to chase her and pinch her little butt while she runs in her teetering toddler run through the house things don’t seem so bad.
Time to go read Goodnight Moon and snuggle our cares away.