My day started awfully early. I have no idea what time she woke up, but The Bug pattered into my room at what-the-fuck o’clock to crawl into bed with me. This is something that happens three or four nights a week and I am sick of it. I bought some melatonin to give to each girl before bed, but so far, it doesn’t seem to be keeping them asleep.
Boo woke up just before 7 a.m. and before I could stumble into her room, had peed all over the floor. I don’t know what this is – she’s going to be five in a couple of days and has been potty trained for two years now. But the last couple of months, she wets the bed a couple of times a week and has peed on the floor several times, too. It’s not diabetes – I’ve had her tested.
After breakfast, The Bug had to pee, too, and went into the bathroom. She peed on the floor rather than on the toilet. So I’ve cleaned up pee twice today, all before 8 a.m..
That Canadian Boy I Married and I had a spat this morning, too, which didn’t do anything to help my mood.
Finally, I was walking into the kitchen with some dishes that had been left in the living room and slipped. The Bug had put a glass of orange juice on the floor, which I kicked over – because, really, I didn’t expect there to be a glass there, plus I had my hands full. I went ass over teakettle, dropping the dishes and sliding into a dining room chair, which fell on top of me. I was covered in orange juice and whatever was in the glass I was carrying.
Needless to say, after cleaning all the crap off the floor, I went upstairs and took a shower and had a bit of a woe-is-me sniffle under the water.
I desperately need to get a full time job. This stay-at-home shit is going to be the death of me.
(And if anyone could tell me what to do to fix the template on this thing, I’d be eternally grateful. It’s a mess.)