Picture me screaming this at the top of my lungs... this is how I feel RIGHT FUCKING NOW. Now also picture me PULLING OUT MY FUCKING HAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAARRRRGGGGG!
Deep breath...
Apparently my kids are incompatible with outside life. If it MOVES it must be an enemy and shrieking at the tops of their lungs must ensue... we're talking an ant... or a teeny fly. I'm serious...
So they are outside in the sandbox, jeff and I are wrestling the infant seat and trying to get it in tight enough in the van... both girls start SCREAMING "DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY DADDY!!!!!!!!!!" at the tops of their ever lovin lungs... why you ask? Surely someone was trying to rape them, or there was a rabid wolf in the back yard... oh no...
why? why? WHY? The gate closed.
Yep. The... gate... closed...
Oh the fucking horror.
I won't even get into how just frusterated mommy turned into pyscho mommy at that. We'll just say that since they are incompatible with the outdoors, they are now both firmly swaddled in their beds and it's nap time. For about the next three years...
I feel like I am about as far away from a gentle discipline mommy as I can get.
did I mention aaaarrrrrrgggggg?
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