But when things continue to NOT change, it means, I have very little material to WHINE about.
See how this works???
Life is incredibly sweet. We're enjoying the last bits of summer. The weather the past few days have not been as scorchingly hot, so that has made outside play last longer. We're enjoying eating watermelon for dinner for days on end. Derek is working from home (mostly) right now, and we know that can't last, so we love the time we do have with him. (Not too sure what I'm going to do when he has a gig that takes him to an office 40 hours a week.) All in all, I can not complain.
BUT MY CHILDREN FREAKING HATE ME.
It's just the worst. I am NOT a morning person. NO NO NO. I despise early morning. I AM TIRED. I like to go to bed around 10:30 or 11:00. This means that 5:freaking 20 in the morning is TOOOOOO early.
I am not, like, ridiculous. I don't stay up until 2am or anything. I just like to go to bed at a normal, adult time.
And my children do not respect this.
And I hate mornings.
So, I try to contain them to their rooms until, oh, I don't know, 7am, but they are like freaking ADHD monkeys on heroin in the mornings. They run and jump and screech for joy at the prospects of a new day. They are TOOOOO happy.
And it makes me angry.
I *could* go to bed earlier, but then I am sacrificing precious time with the spouse and NO CHILDREN.
I love my babies, starting at about, maybe if they aren't too obnoxious, 8am, MAYBE 8:30. That is a solid 2-3 hours every single day that I don't like my kids.
It's a real problem. And when it resolves itself, they will be teens and I'll be shoveling them out of beds at ridiculously early hours and disliking them for their unwillingness to participate.
But really, I can't complain. Overall, life is good.
I just fletching HATE mornings.