Tired

That's the one word to describe me right now - tired. Physically tired, yes. Tired of how no matter what I. is doing, as soon as I start posting, she inevitably will appear next to me, asking and/or whining about something. It's like a sick phenomenon. I try not to get annoyed but when it happens each morning, it gets old. I can't write during the day, I'm too busy doing and by the time I am able to at night, I just can't - I'm too drained, too exhausted.

I know this won't go on forever and really, I'm tired of hearing myself say how tired I am. I think it's just a result of being overwhelmed with a lot of things. Last night I found myself with an iota of energy so I put away laundry, put another load in, and finally unpacked V. and I's bags from our mountain trip. Yeah, the one I still haven't posted about. I need to download the pics to accompany the story and honestly, after doing the chores I just mentioned, I laid down on the living room floor to watch tv with a blanket because I was too tired to sit up on the sofa.

I wish I could say that I got good sleep last night but I didn't. For one thing, I got up for my nighttime bathroom visit closer to 4:30 rather than around 2ish so it made it hard to go back to sleep. Then since V. wasn't here to feed the cats, they were running laps around this same time since that's usually when V. feeds them. As I was starting to relax, I heard this distant beeping (I had ear plugs in, everything's distant) that would stop and then start again a couple of minutes later. I finally couldn't take it and wandered the bedroom until I finally located the offending noise - I.'s play cellphone that was running out of batteries and was beeping. Grrrr...

Today I had high hopes of going to the zoo or the Wild Animal Park for the day. Now I'm considering Chuck E. Cheese just so I can get some sort of resttime. To complicate things, I. has not been getting enough sleep the last 3 days and her attitude and frustration directly reflect this. As I finish this post, she's gotten out every sticker page she can find in her art drawer and has them strewned on the carpet. In one of my lesser "momma" moments, I just told her that she needs to put those away now or I'm getting the trashcan and putting them away for her. Yeah, I know - could have used a different tactic but this whole week, every time it's time to leave the house, I come downstairs (after coordinating the upstairs' pickup) and there are little piles here and there. Instead of running even later, we end up leaving and inevitably, I'm picking all this crap up after she goes to bed. Thus the "I'm getting the trash can" method of compliance.

Oh well, we all have our moments right? I'm off to salvage this day now.