help me help me help me

One of my favourite writers is Anne Lamott. She states in one of her books that most of her prayers consist of thank you thank you thank you, or help me help me help me.

I concur.

Right now, Ayden is in a full on meltdown and all I can do is pray help me help me help me!

I couldn't take the noise or the stress it makes me feel, so I sent him to his room to finish crying. I just couldn't take it anymore. What was he upset about? I wouldn't let him hold Riley unsupervised on the couch. Seriously people, what kind of a God is there in the universe who puts such an unfair mother in one's life? Woe is him.

Earlier I made him lunch. It was pronounced disgusting and I was asked why I always ignore him when he tells me he doesn't like peach yogurt or cucumbers? My friend Jenna has a rule in her house where her kids are not allowed to say they don't like a meal; instead they are allowed to say, "It's not my favourite." I've recently adopted this rule, but I was so angry at lunch for being accused of ignoring him for not being a mind reader, not to mention not being a SLAVE, that I didn't enforce the 'it's not my favourite' rule for fear of losing my mind. I bit my tongue and turned around. Counted to ten. Turned back and made a joke.
"Well, mommy has 14 million people in my family so it is hard for me to remember everybody's favourites and likes and dislikes all the time." Sort of a joke. Sort of true.

Hellllllllllllllllllllllllp meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.......

In the interest of distracting myself, I thought I'd blog! Here are some cute photos

Yesterday:







And today: