At Post's End You'll Be Wishing I'd Just Remain Quiet…
DSL is up and running. Thank heavens. There's only so much real-life immersion I can take, and then I simply must have a virtual fix.
I've been toying with engaging in a purely academic exercise of seeing just how long it takes for my readership to dip into single digits. The precipitous decline already brought about by sparse posting and limited commenting is impressive! Can it continue if I keep up with my nonactivity?
Since I am actually posting, I suppose I am not engaging in this exercise at all. Ah well. I'll keep it in mind.
So little has been happening hereabouts that I feel sheepish popping up to report, ummm, nothing. The main motif to my life right now seems to be Allison's tempestuous temperament.
The girl is driving me crazy.
She throws the most spectacular, eardrum-shattering tantrums I've ever witnessed. And although some triggers are predictable, allowing me to avoid the near occasion of sin, others are completely mysterious. Still others are knowable yet unavoidable. Getting dressed, for instance. We kind of have to do this every day, but it's always a dicey process. Even if I let her pick out her own diaper, pick out her clothes, pick out her socks, take off her pajamas, and unfold her diaper, she still might completely freak out over the fact that I have to help her snap her undershirt. And if that sets her off, we are in for a good 20 minutes of hysterics.
Sometimes, and forgive the hyperbole, it's like living with a deranged, abusive spouse. No matter how carefully I tread, I'm still liable to step on a landmine. And I have to confess that I do not always handle these situations graciously or patiently. Sometimes it's all I can do not to scream my head off in response to her screaming her head off. Sometimes I do yell. Sometimes I both yell and stomp away from her because her behavior makes me so angry and frustrated.
Clearly I need better coping strategies. Acting like a petulant teenager in response to the terrible twos is not particularly helpful.
Sorry for whining. Maybe silence is better than constantly kvetching about my kids!
DSL is up and running. Thank heavens. There's only so much real-life immersion I can take, and then I simply must have a virtual fix.
I've been toying with engaging in a purely academic exercise of seeing just how long it takes for my readership to dip into single digits. The precipitous decline already brought about by sparse posting and limited commenting is impressive! Can it continue if I keep up with my nonactivity?
Since I am actually posting, I suppose I am not engaging in this exercise at all. Ah well. I'll keep it in mind.
So little has been happening hereabouts that I feel sheepish popping up to report, ummm, nothing. The main motif to my life right now seems to be Allison's tempestuous temperament.
The girl is driving me crazy.
She throws the most spectacular, eardrum-shattering tantrums I've ever witnessed. And although some triggers are predictable, allowing me to avoid the near occasion of sin, others are completely mysterious. Still others are knowable yet unavoidable. Getting dressed, for instance. We kind of have to do this every day, but it's always a dicey process. Even if I let her pick out her own diaper, pick out her clothes, pick out her socks, take off her pajamas, and unfold her diaper, she still might completely freak out over the fact that I have to help her snap her undershirt. And if that sets her off, we are in for a good 20 minutes of hysterics.
Sometimes, and forgive the hyperbole, it's like living with a deranged, abusive spouse. No matter how carefully I tread, I'm still liable to step on a landmine. And I have to confess that I do not always handle these situations graciously or patiently. Sometimes it's all I can do not to scream my head off in response to her screaming her head off. Sometimes I do yell. Sometimes I both yell and stomp away from her because her behavior makes me so angry and frustrated.
Clearly I need better coping strategies. Acting like a petulant teenager in response to the terrible twos is not particularly helpful.
Sorry for whining. Maybe silence is better than constantly kvetching about my kids!