Did you ever have one of those days? Where nothing goes your way, everything is screwed up, and you're just completely fed up? I'm having one of those weeks.
To start, Oscar is now refusing breakfast. Other than his drinkable yogurt, he won't consume anything. Maybe a quarter of a piece of toast, but he'll make faces the whole time. He's been interested in self feeding with a spoon so I tried oatmeal and he puts it in his mouth, but again, the face. Applesauce he just dumps from the bowl. No to peanut butter toast, no to Cinnamon toast, no to Cheerios, no to eggs. It seems unless it's something I'm eating for breakfast, he's not interested.
And then there is Nelson, the great money-spending phenom. Now, this is partly my fault because I let him see the balances in our bank accounts. While I was in Santa Cruz, he had to transfer some money from our "Emergency Fund" to have his car fixed. So he saw all the balances. When our expensive German luxury car needed new breaks, he opted to let the dealer do these repairs at a cost that was approximately four hundred dollars higher than non-dealer cost.
Four hundred dollars?! I was shocked. Why, I asked him, why would you make this decision? His response, "Well, they were already changing the oil and doing the service repair, and when I saw how much money we had in the bank I figured we'd just have them do it."
And you know what? We DID have a lot of money in the bank. MONEY TO PAY OUR MORTGAGE, which is, you know, A LOT OF MONEY.
So, I'm trying really hard not to be annoyed at my husband for squandering our money or my son for refusing breakfast every morning, but I'm finding it difficult.
Oh, and did I mention that there is some weird new trend in my house putting garbage on the counter and not in the trash can? What's up with that? And putting dirty dishes on the counter and not in the sink. I gave up on having anyone else put them in the dishwasher a long, long time ago, but now it seems the three extra feet over to the sink is just too far to travel to deposit dishes.
And while I'm on the subject of dishes, I'm tired of doing them all. Tired of it. And I'm not doing it anymore.
I see what is coming on the horizon. A pregnancy melt down, in which I end up humiliating myself in a sobbing heap begging for just a little help around here. And by help I mean, put trash in the trash can, put dishes in the sink, clean up after YOURSELF, put dirty clothes in the hamper. This will result in help for possibly one week. And you know what? I'll take it.