Oh great.

It's that week where I hate everything.

What I knew but didn't really notice when I was pregnant, then nursing, then pregnant, then nursing, for oh, about four years, was that I was on this lovely hiatus.

Now, I have demon hormones. I'm not just tearful, like the pregnant/nursing caused. I'm angry. I feel like the Hulk. 

This third week, it's the precursor week, where my mind slips somehow and manages to forget again and I'm left going, "What the hell is wrong with me? And more importantly, what the hell is wrong with everyone around me!?"

Everything is wrong and bad and I just can't keep up. I am trying so damn hard and it's not good enough ever. My house will never ever be clean enough, I am apparently absolutely incapable of being a good housekeeping multi-tasking woman like I am supposed to be, and why in the hell won't my kids eat what they're told?

And this week I cannot possibly deal with a fourth toddler learning to stay in a big bed. And by learning I mean climbing out a hundred times. At that stage where they really need an afternoon nap in the afternoon but that nap now makes them not tired at all at their regularly scheduled bedtime. This week I really feel like letting the toddler rummage around in his brother's room in the dark like he seems to want to do, but since he is the fourth toddler I know that if I succumb to this laziness in this particular situation he will only learn how much fun it is to roam after bedtime and this 'training' will be met with much more of a fight than the smile and giggle I'm getting each time I tuck him back in now. So that work that I desperately need to catch up on this evening for that meeting tomorrow? It has to wait until later this evening, when said toddler has finally succumbed to sleep, and when I have then faced the two older kids who have taken advantage of the oversight that they have not been made to go to bed because of that toddler chaos and are still playing video games. Which the whole world tells me I am a terrible mother for letting them play in the first place but I do not have enough willpower to stand up against. I quite frankly just don't have the energy to ban anything and will quite likely buy them more screen stuff for Christmas.

Even though the Mars needs Moms movie was clearly telling me yesterday that machines shouldn't raise babies. I get it screen. Shut up.

Did I mention my husband has been traveling for training lately? And by lately I mean we're on week 8 of 8?

This week makes me want to lie on my dirty kitchen floor and stare at the fan.

But I can't. Dead-eyed crazy petulant mom would probably scare my children. I know world. You told me already. Cherish the crazy little short people, they'll grow too soon.

Just. Need. To. Get. To. Next. Week. Where gentle, sane, positive Victoria lives.

And bonus! Next week is Christmas.

Boring Mommy.

My favorite facebook status of the week:

"Didn't you guys get the memo? Being overly cynical and jaded isn't cool anymore. It just makes you boring, and kind of an asshole."

I'm kind of an asshole lately.

I used to feel like a positive person, overly peppy even! Then I had kids, and so often the world seems wrong and bad, and I feel anti-everything. I grasp at the positive, but seem to gravitate to the negative. I'm serious Mommy, truely an adult who is no fun. No fun at all.

Today, Easter Monday, my kids earned no sugar and absolute adherence to bedtimes for their next holiday. The group emotional fragility following candy overload and late family visiting hours was too much to bear. The tears, oh the tears, today.

Thane and I had an argument resulting in him being sent to bed at 6:30, I knew his tiredness was dictating his actions and this was really what he needed. He of course, did not agree that the reason he tried to run over his brother with a tricycle was because his judgement and personality were impaired by lack of sleep. He told me he hated me all the way. I retorted I'm not supposed to be his friend, I'm his mother. Yep. Those words came out of my mouth.