Isn't it just the greatest relief to get to the end of a really shitty week at work and have two whole days of not going to that shitty job?
Yeah. That's the downfall of this parenting gig.
I have had a shitty week. It is mostly due, I am afraid, to my adorable, incredibly intelligent, and most definitely headstrong firstborn. I have never heard such screaming as has assaulted my ears this week. Wordless, high-pitched, full-volume screaming, that goes on for minutes at a time and is triggered by something as heinous as my announcement that it's time for dinner.
It's bad, y'all. I know why he's doing it (a need for attention, an inability to communicate frustrations and fears brought on by a new baby, etc., etc.) and I know why it's mostly aimed at me, but that doesn't really make it easier to endure. A. and the MiL are trying to give me a break when they can, but there's only so much they can do, because what Cubby really needs is me and the assurance that I will still always be here and still love him. Taking him away from me doesn't really accomplish that (although it does give my eardrums a rest).
Unlike a regular job, there are no weekends and no vacations. There will be no break. At least, not until Cubby grants me one by returning to his previous charming self. That will happen, I know, and in the grand scheme of things it will happen in a relatively short amount of time. It'll just feel like forever.