Cranky and crabby

I'm having a cranky, crabby day. And guess what: so are the kids. We're driving each other nuts on this rainy day.

Not that I mind the weather--I'm actually liking it a lot. It's a welcome change to stay inside and do art projects and read books; lately, I've been sweating my ass off outside swinging kids in circles, hopping from the tree to the chair, and saying, "Let's please keep the sand in the sandbox, friends," eleventy billion times a day. Today I didn't have to put sunscreen on slippery toddlers, pack water cups for outside, or remember to check on my supply of diapers in the diaper bag. So all that was good, and you'd think I'd be happy today.

But no. What's been not so good has been refereeing dozens of squabbles over toys. UGH. That makes me crazy. They're even squabbling over toys that are exact copies of other toys, which is hard to watch (of course I understand that there's another long red block by the table, but the kids don't give a shit. They want the red block that their friend is holding and they want it now). And then there's been pushing and hitting and sobbing, which is atypical for these kids. What finally helped was setting them up at the kitchen table with some new art supplies. Of course, they still grabbed each other's colored pencils, papers, pipe cleaners, etc., but at least they weren't within hitting or pushing range. Two of the kids actually fell asleep at the lunch table, another rarity for us. Overtired much, babies? Here's hoping they nap for a long, long time this afternoon.

And as for me, I'm just a crab. I acted like I had lots of patience this morning, but I wanted to tell them to knock it off and quit their crying. I'm all crampy and PMSy and volatile, and I'd be most comfortable under the covers with a hot water bottle and a good book (not this stupid new Patricia Cornwell novel, which SUCKS. Come back, Kay Scarpetta!). Sigh.

I'm glad it's Friday.