Seriously, if it weren’t for pediatric ibuprofen, I might have jumped out the window yesterday.  My kid has been that big of a PITA.   You can tell the minute the IB wears off and the minute it kicks in again.  After days like this, it would be nice if there was some payoff like, “I endured this crappy day and then, as my reward…”

Except there is no reward.  (I did make it 40 minutes on the roof last night, though.)  At the end of the crappy tantrum filled days, there are crappy, tantrum filled nights. Fortunately, she went to bed at a decent time last night, so there were a couple of peaceful hours in there.

And I’m climbing the walls.  The screaming tantrums of the three year old mean she’s still sick and taking her out of the house is not advised, because it’s so unfair to take a sick wee one out in public and, selfishly, my GOD I don’t want to deal with this in public.

Because today’s temperatures are threatening to start with the number 8, I made dinner (green lentil/chickpea/sundried tomato salad) and thus will have food ready when M returns.   I’m guessing tonight will be one of those “See you!  Dinner’s in the fridge and I’m off to the bookstore!” nights.

But I’m hoping to be pleasantly surprised.  Fingers crossed.