I’ll be honest with you, today I have been a bit of a grumpy old cow. Well, not so much grumpy as fiery. Yes, let me put it that there has been a fire in my belly. (Or read: I’ve flown off the handle a few times.)
I blame a few converging factors. For starters: two f*$%k ups on my part for which I am now paying the price and kicking myself. You know the kind of thing. Thing 1: crumpling up a receipt and leaving it on the dash of the car. The kind of thing we all do all the time. (Don’t we? Please? Or am I the only scatty one out here?) This receipt was for a package I posted with a camera lens I sold on ebay. I sent it signed for and urgent. What could go wrong? Well, it hasn’t turned up. And I have since turned over the car, the house, my wallet, every item of clothing I have, all the least likely nooks and crannies you could possibly think of…..three times over….and I still can’t find the damned receipt and tracking details. Doh!
Thing 2 was a similar tale of self-induced disaster and chaos. A task dreaded and delayed for a very long time. Then I go to do it and it turns out to be ridiculously simple. Apart from now I have to pay a fine for doing it late. Double doh!
For an intelligent woman I can be pretty dozy (doh-zy?) sometimes.
Ah, but that brings me neatly to my next point. It took me a while but at some point in my flying off the handle I had the wherewithal to take a breath, take a mental step back, look at myself and wonder, why? Why was I over-reacting so badly? And then it dawned on me. Dozy I may be but dozing is something I have done far too little of just lately.
For the last couple of weeks the toddler’s sleep pattern has fallen into disarray. This translates for me as a night time apparition. Anywhere from midnight to 4am, there will be the rising yowl of ‘MuUUUuum,’ followed by the pitter-patter-thud of tiny toddler feet. Then he’ll crawl into bed beside me.
Which would be fine if he didn’t insist on sleeping horizontally in the bed with arms and legs flailing constantly. To be fair, he doesn’t always sleep spreadeagled across the bed. No, sometimes he likes to sleep on top of my head. As in with full body weight and mass pinned to my face. It doesn’t make for a good night’s sleep.
And lack of sleep does not make for a happy me. So at least I have an explanation for my current snappiness which seems to have defused some of its power. Now all I need is to either a) sort out the toddler’s sleep pattern (I’m trying, believe me) or b) go sleep somewhere where he can’t find me. I’m thinking weekend break away while other half deals with him? Or, perhaps more realistically, I could just try making up the hours by getting to bed earlier and having a siesta whenever possible.
On which note, I really must to bed.