And while we are on the subject, 2011 wasn't any picnic either.
Yesterday Baby C woke me up at 3:41. She staged her usual anti-sleep protest, but I left her whining ass in her bed until 4:30am. She was NOT happy, but for a few minutes when she was quiet and I actually thought she had fallen back to sleep, I managed to drift off again and she started blabbering and yelling again so I just gave up and got up.
Last night, Grand Master H got me up at 12:46. He had a nightmare. He is a nightmare.
He is a total mess.
You know when you go out to the mall/restaurant/anywhere and someone else's kid is having a fit and throwing his or herself on the floor/ground acting like a total asshole?
That is what it is like around here all the time right now.
It took him over an hour to finally settle down, break the spell of the stupid nightmare (according to H, "the worst dream ever, there were dinosaurs and they were black and they were attacking me)
and get back to sleep.
I was in and out of our room four times. Poor Mr. Smith trying to sleep through all this crap
the whole time. Not that it mattered, he ended up getting up at 1:15 to do work for a client. The poor man, what is the point in even trying to sleep?
Of course, frequently interrupted sleep is basically like having no sleep at all.
I get plenty of interrupted sleep. I am also pretty much a reanimated corpse run with
caffeine and carbohydrates. Rather than a short fuse, I have no fuse.
I am researching military schools, military boarding schools.
As if it wasn't enough that he is beyond exhausted, he then tries to play a video game on the iPad that he has not mastered. He does not like to play or do anything that he has not mastered. He flips his damn lid if he can't do something perfectly the first time he tries it.
He is like me and I frickin' hate that more than I can even express.
So I take him to school (which he now hates and demands that I change his schedule/school) and that goes surprisingly well, all things considered.
My car is running on fumes and has been since yesterday, so I head to the gas station to fuel up.
Except the little door thingies where the gas cap is? Yeah, it won't open. It is the Fort Damn Knox of gas tank door cover thingies. It is going to go down protecting that empty gas tank, dammit!
For a split second I considered my options:
1. I can pour gas all over the car and hope some gets into the tank.
2. I can hit the little door as hard as I can and hope I am like The Fonz and the thing just pops open.
3. I can go home and go back to bed.
4. I can go somewhere and get it fixed.
I decided to get it fixed since The Fonz thing didn't work out. Also the guy at the service place quickly nixed my plan to pour gas all over the car.
$87 later I will be able to fill the tank with wildly over-priced fossil fuel.