I'm Not Complaining

I had posted this earlier today, and it just seemed so dang whiny that I took it down. But now that the P-Dawg is home from work and I've helped myself to a few glasses of vino, I'll be darned if it's not downright amusing.

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J-dog and V-meister have been at each other's throats from the moment they woke up this morning. It's one of those days when I'm just a toddler tantrum away from reverting back to my monkey roots.

That's right, I'm about to start flinging poop.

The day began with me running out of the shower, dripping wet, to disengage J-dog from the V-meister's headlock. By the time we got out of the house, it was practically twilight and the twenty or so hours I'd spent applying SPF 50 over every nook, cranny, and crevice of our pasty white selves had gone to waste.

Nonetheless, we headed to the splash park.

But when we finally arrived there and met up with V-meister's little friend, no one actually wanted to splash. The V-meister was requesting an early lunch, and the J-dog wanted only to climb in and out of my lap over and over again, mixing it up with an occasional full body slam for good measure.

After endless rounds of this, I set him down none too gently, and when he came in for his next approach, I totally blocked him with a tae-kwon-do move. Of course I'm not proud.

Once the kids were finished not splashing, not running under any fountains, and not eating their lovingly packed nutritional and environmentally friendly lunches, we walked over to the playground. We were only there ten minutes before I found the two of them locked in a death-grip in the middle of the crawl tunnel.

I marched up inside that play structure - fuming- but instead of giving each of them a nuggie as I was wont to do, I reprimanded and separated one from the other, the J-dog with his legs still cycling in mid-air like some caricature of an angry toddler.

Then, on my pissed off and humiliating descent from the jungle gym, I totally nailed my head on a metal beam and swore out loud in front of the V-meister's wide-eyed little friend, who had been watching the spectacle from the sidelines.

In between the stars that appeared before my eyes, I was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the J-dog putting gel beads that had fallen out of some kid's leaking diaper from the swirly slide right into his pie hole.

And then we left.

On the way home, the V-meister asked what was for lunch? but I simply cranked up the volume on our Lithuanian pop music CD and bopped along to the accordion/techno beat while taking deep breaths and counting to twenty in my head.

Now it's "nap time" and I've been sitting here on my living room couch listening to the J-dog attempting to bust out of his crib for the past forty-five minutes. It's funny, I don't remember tucking him in along with a hammer and crowbar! but by the sound of it, that is what he's employing.

There's also a dead rabbit in my backyard, and this makes me want to cry.