It snowed about 8 inches. It's only 10 degrees and very windy. I'm stuck in the house all day with the children.
Wife-a-roo sent me a link to a Salon blog by Aaron Traister which pretty much sums up my existence these days. A particularly salient paragraph:
"My view of parenting and its effect on the adult mind is particularly sour right now since my daughter has just entered into the most difficult stage of development. She is 10 months old, and while most people would point to the fabled “terrible twos” as the most challenging and exhausting time with their young ones, the interval between 8 and 15 months is almost indescribably difficult for me, especially because it is making me not good at words plus how to use them."Child #2 is 7+ months old now and at the incredibly obnoxious stage where she is increasingly mobile, but only in uni-directional pathways. For example: she can maneuver from a seated position to lying either on her back or her stomach, but is unable or unwilling to move from either of those positions to any other, more satisfactory position. This necessitates righting her or rearranging her approximately every 2.5 minutes* since she doesn't like lying down: the position, but only lying down: the act. Thank God for overalls.
Last night I was in the kitchen with the children. Child #2 was sitting in her high chair screaming unhappily and refusing all toys or diversions while Child #1 was merrily running head first into the kitchen cabinets and trying valiantly to drop cast-iron cookware on his feet.** Wife-a-roo was late because of the snowstorm and I was trying to cook dinner (modest pasta dish). It occurred to me: "If I'm going to live the life of a 1950's housewife, I'm pretty sure I deserve some of the pills."
* I have righted Child #2 eight times during the writing of this post.
** He still has a cold. Colds make him insane and self-injurious.
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