Good-bye Brittany, Hello BRATTney!

After my migraine yesterday I didn’t sleep very well, not that I ever do, but last night I slept extremely light and heard every weird noise in the house.  When I hear noises at night I am like a little girl.  I freeze and become stiff like a board and I make sure that the covers are covering my whole body as if they will actually protect me from an intruder or a ghost.  My heart bangs in my chest, I get cottonmouth, and I feel paralyzed because I am sure that a psychopath has broken in.  We have an alarm and it seems to help, but if for some reason it isn’t set, I freak out.  One night I went down to the kitchen to get a bottle for one of the boys and the light in the garage was on and the door was unlocked.  That particular light has a motion sensor and so I was sure that someone was in the house and was hiding in the garage.  I locked the door and waited until morning to see if there was a man lurking around behind our car.  I know it’s ridiculous, but my imagination has always gotten away with me since I was a little girl. 

The first time I heard noises last night it was Lindsey rolling around in her bed and kicking the wall.  The second time I discovered that it was the cat clawing his way up the ladder on Logan’s bunk-bed—stupid cat.  I don’t mind a child waking me up, but seriously, I can’t take an animal waking me up.  I love Chipper, but he’s a night owl and it drives me nuts.  Then at 3:30 I heard a neighbor dragging their trashcan back up their driveway…. seriously, dude?  Who does that at 3 am?  Probably some poor neurotic, paranoid, sleep deprived soul like me!   Then after the unnecessary trashcan maneuvering, a stupid dog started barking.  Remember that "Seinfeld" episode when Elaine kidnaps the dog and drops it off in the country?  I’m so sleep deprived that I think any day now I could become capable of dog thievery, especially this dog.  I won’t even get into what a menace this mongrel is. 

So after a horrible night of sleep, I drag my slow butt down to the kitchen to make my wonderful, blessed, legal stimulant….thank God for the coffee bean!  After half a cup I turned into Superman and Miss Chatterbox.  I threw some laundry in, made really fattening and delicious sweet rolls for the kiddos, picked up a bit, unloaded the dishwasher, got the kids off to school, dressed  the babies  and went to Pilates.  It is my favorite class and I never miss it.  It isn’t like a regular Pilates class; it’s very difficult.  The instructor knows how to get all of your teeny muscles, the ones that you don’t even know exist, to burn.  The women who never come to her class were moaning in pain today.  My booty will be sore tonight; it was especially difficult this morning. 

I’ve been in a bit of a funk lately so it was good for me to go to Pilates.  I broke my iPod on Sunday and I’ve been really upset about it.  It slipped out of my hand and landed perfectly on the stone floors and the entire face cracked.  As if it would make a difference, I kicked a ball against the wall and cried.  I just feel like a gigantic baby lately.  I’m tired, spacey and ditzy, and I feel like I can’t concentrate this week.  I feel like my head isn’t attached to my neck; I am just not myself.   Little things are more aggravating to me this week.  For example, parking stinks at the gym because everyone is trying to lose weight right now and I can't wait for them to fall off the wagon and start eating doughnuts.....how nice is that?  But parking a mile away from the door with the boys is scary  because they don’t want to hold my hand and they like to dart off in different directions.  I can see why my mom used to put my brother and sister on leashes.  Seriously, she put them on leashes and must have looked like she was dog-sledding with the three of us.  People would yell out “If you want to use a leash, buy a dog!”  Well they’ve obviously never had twins before. 

What’s bad about me behaving like a child and getting irritated about the small stuff is that it’s not me, and I am not a child.  I’m usually the one laughing at the idiot on the road waving their fists and swearing at bad drivers.  It doesn’t get you there any sooner, and the buttheads just slow down if they see you irritated, so what’s the point?  I get upset about things, but I feel like I save it most of the time for the big stuff.  I prefer to be happy.  Ah well, I guess we’re all entitled to a day here or there!

Something that made me smile this morning.....Dylan has a favorite color.  He refuses to use dishes or eating utencils that are not blue and luckily Carson will trade with him if I get it wrong, since he doesn't have a favorite color yet.  Dylan lost his favorite blue pacifier today, which he calls "Pie" and I just happened to have a spare in the car.  It wasn't the same kind, but it had blue on it.  I asked him if he liked his new "pie" and he shook his head up and down.  I said "Is it because it's blue?"  He shook his head up and down again and said "Boooooo!"  He's so adorable.  It is amazing that toddlers can have such distinctive personalities and preferences, like favorite colors. 

No matter how irritated I get, my kids always cheer me up and bring me back to Brittany.