I just don't know if it was PMS, my first sunburn of the season, or something more random, like the different scent of my husband's new brand of deodorant, but this week has just been fucked up.
Let's start with the sunburn. We went to the beach last Saturday (prime sunburn hours of 12-4) and I didn't put on any sunblock. Of course I lathered 50 on The Girl lest I be called a horrible mother. But I thought I would be fine. Um. No. Dork. The sunburn made my strange dry skin patches erupt into cherry-red fireballs. I now look like I was whacked in the shins (yes, both!) by a metal-pipe-wielding Tanya Harding. And there are six or seven other spots that are now more itchy and dry and ugly than before. I guess I need to go see the dermatologist so he can tell me I have pityriasis rosea for the fourth time, when all of the web doctor sites say it never recurs. On the bright side - I went to the beach when most of the country is still surrounded by nothing but dry land. Ha ha. I mock the land-locked.
Another bright spot was that The Girl was able to get a spot in the 4-week summer session at her preschool. And it started this week. And I rejoiced in my three hours of freedom. Bad news - the 6-week session has been cancelled. Fuck.
The next issue that has plagued me - violence at the hands of my toddler. The Girl has been kicking me. And hitting me in the face. I am flummoxed. I need to read what Dr. Sears and the others have to say, but haven't found the time. In the meantime, I have taken more than a dozen glancing blows off my noggin, face, chest, and arms. I am tired of grabbing her flailing legs & arms and trying to pin them down. I am tired of repeating, "I know you don't want to kick/hit/shriek. I understand you are angry/frustrated/tired." I want her to stop before I hit her back. Gah.
Today we drove 2+ hours to The OC for my niece's graduation party. I drove and we got lost when The Hubby told me to take the NEXT exit instead of the one I was getting over in the right lane to take since I WAS THE ONE THAT GOOGLED IT AND I KNEW IT WAS THE RIGHT FUCKING EXIT!!!
After that 35-minute passive-aggressive detour...we arrived at the party and it was very nice. The whole family was there and my other nieces played with The Girl for two hours straight. But when it was time to change into warmer clothes, The Girl went frickin' ballistic. She started hitting/kicking me in front of my dad's girlfriend and my nieces. So I hauled her upstairs to find a quiet spot to change her and possible pinch her really hard. Teetering on my not-so-high-heeled slides (but way higher than I usually wear), I carried the squirmy screaming kid under one arm like a sack of potatoes, and her clothes and diaper under the other arm. It took some negotiating and a lot of brute force to change her and then she threw another fit as we went back downstairs. I immediately found the hubby and handed her over. Then I burst into tears. At a party. At my the home of my nieces aunt (not my relative). In front of the college graduate. The Girl just pushes my buttons. And I know that she is nearly 3 and I am nearly 40. Logically I should be able to see that she is just acting out, testing boundaries. But logic has nothing to do with mothering a toddler. I am fucking wiped out.
And I started my period two days early and I have cramps. And there was more crap but why waste all my energy re-hashing it and your energy reading about my crappy crap.
I have just about had it this week. So please send positive vibes out into the universe so that I will be blessed with a peaceful week with fewer tantrums and less itching and less bloating. Thank you. Really.