is it bedtime yet?

3 is an interesting age. We thought 2 was a bit trying. We were wrong. *we being my husband and I. "3 is a wonderful age" they said... "at 3, all they want to do is please you" they said... "its such a joy" they said... what a load of shit that was. These people obviously didn't have my child at home, or maybe they've just lost their minds, what with all the "joy" and all. At any rate, my house is not like that at all, no sir.

Fast-forward to today, or pretty much any given day over the last few months.


Zane: Mommy, come build with me!?!

Me: Sure, I'd love to build with you. Please come pick up these dinosaurs with me, so we can build with the blocks.

Zane: Can you build with me, Mommy?

Me: Zane, we don't play with another toy until the first one has been put away.

Zane: MOMMY! WILL YOU build with me!?!

Me: Zane, you cannot play with the blocks until you've helped mommy pick up the dinosaurs.

Zane: NOOOOOOOOO! BUILD WITH ME!!!!!!

Me: Zane, I'm not kidding, don't dump those blocks out of......

Zane: MOMMY! STOP! TALKING! *dumps blocks*


I'm just so tired. the outright defiance, the obstinance, and the talking. Oh GOD, the talking. He talks constantly. No, really. When he's not talking, he's singing, and requires you (meaning me) to sing along with him, and heaven forbid you forget the words. He requires complete engagement every second that he's awake. No one tells you about that, do they? I swear, I'm not complaining, really. I'm just.. sleep deprived and feeling a little scrambled. How do you DO it? How? How, mommy, How? No, How? No, mommy, really, how? How? HOW? HHHHHHOOOOOOWWWWWWW!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! my brains are broken and oozing out of my ear.