I have to tell you that the children are trying to kill me.
Of that I am utterly convinced.
All they do all day long right now is fight and SHRIEK and cry and carry on.
I need some sort of superhero license to drive the car.
I am pushed over the eating edge.
I can't remember if I moaned about it here or just on facebook but Sam is RIDICULOUS when I am trying to cook. She clings to my legs SCREAMING AND CRYING AND SCRATCHING her way up my pants. I burn everything. Tonight she climbed on the kitchen table, knocked over a kitchen chair (nearly shattering a nearby cabinet), then proceeded to fall of said table while dragging the tablecloth with her.
Now. You might be thinking SARAH! put her in the damn high chair with a snack while you cook.
Except she WILL NOT SIT in the high chair (or carts). She climbs out in less than 10 seconds and no restraints can keep her in there.
So I tried the playpen.
Well, you can imagine how much she loves that. (I even tried a very special play pen only gadgety toy! Look a blinky thing for use in that prison baby!)
So not only do I spend the entire time I am trying to cook with complete insanity around me, but then I cannot eat either. (And I have to eat. HAVE TO. I still have horrible gagging issues and reflux and blah blah and as a pregnant lady I simply must be able to sit down and consume food. Must.)
Against my better judgment I tried letting her have food in those snack trap thingys so she could just wander around (since she seems hell bent on it anyway). Which is okay. Except 1) it's not enough food, nor a real meal and 2) it COMPLETELY shits up the house making more and more work for me.
And honestly I believe that children should sit and the table and eat. When you are done you may get up and not before.
(I also tried just putting her down but after awhile she gets so hungry she goes nuts. And no, it doesn't change her mind about the high chair.)
By 6 pm I am ready to have a stroke everyday.
What in the bloody hell do I do with this child?
And the first one of you to mention the addition of TBA to the chaos dies.
DIES I tell you.
Please send reinforcements soon. I can hear her shrieking in the yard again as I type this.
P.S. Jackson was not like this. Now, he is a total devil in many other ways. But he did not try to scale tall mountains or run in the street or refuse to sit down and eat! And being an only child he obviously did not SHRIEK every time his sibling tried to look at him or come near his *space*.
P.P.S. Must stop this soon. The very thought of trying to breastfeed a new baby (which I already HATE with a passion) with Samantha scratching and screaming makes me have that stroke again. A double stroke.
Labels: Family life