This morning was not a good morning.
Alex was acting like he was tired from the moment he woke up. He was fidgety and whimper-y. He only had the patience to eat about 4oz and then wasn't particularly happy in general. He wasn't happy with being on the floor with his toys. But then he wasn't happy with me holding him. So while I was holding him he was diving forward and twisting around making it impossible to get anything accomplished. The whole time he wasn't happy, he was whining. Whining, whining, whining. Making me crazy, crazy, crazy.
Then I pinched my finger in the baby gate. That was right after I whacked my elbow on the bathroom counter. We were just about out the door when I realized Alex hadn't gotten his medicine. His bright pink medicine. So I gave it to him. While wearing a white hoodie. Didn't notice the bright pink medicine on my white sleeve until I had my hand up close to my face to inspect my knuckle and get the three slivers out from skidding it across the wall in the garage while trying to squeeze the boy's car seat between the car and the wall. Started the car, low fuel alarm dinging at me. And then just to ice the frustrating morning cake...Justin Bieber is on the radio, singing his insanely stupid Eenie Meenie Minee Mo Love Song. I had to take multiple deep breaths to stop myself from crying.
I just really want one morning to myself. One that doesn't include having to get the boy ready too. One morning where Trav has to juggle his morning routine with a whining baby and a barking dog and medicine and formula and banged elbows and slivers. I realize because of his job this can't happen. And that we should be happy that we both have good jobs. But that doesn't make it any less frustrating.
And no, I am not missing the irony of me whining about a whining baby. Shut it.
What time do you have to be out of the door? I can come give you some time. I do live only a block and a half away.
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