My sainted mother called me today and pumped me up big time. Spending all my time with a dysfunctional toddler is really doing a number on my self esteem. If the person you spent the most time with frequently started screaming and clawing at your face like an angry zombie, it would set you on edge too.
So I was feeling on. Not above the line, but not below. Just on. It's a good, stable place to be. And I've been searching my brains for something positive or just off the MYKIDSAREPSYCHO topic to blog, but then I had to spend half an hour in a car dealership waiting room. With all 3. It had no door, and was across the hall from some offices and a showroom. I lost my will to live by the 15 minute mark.
My sainted mother had assured me it wasn't my fault that my toddlers turn into psycho howler monkeys, but the common factor in all of them is that they spend almost their entire waking hours with me. That can't be a coincidence.
One thing raising WonderGirl has taught me is that I can't take credit for their awesomeness. But I just can't do the opposite and not take credit for their faults.
And now, a palate cleanser.