Monday all day long.

It was a fairly rotten weekend from an emotional standpoint. J is very two, and K and I had a discussion about some financial stuff that just left me tired. In the course of that conversation, I got really uptight and lost it in front of J, which is something I swore I'd never do. He knew something was up - I could tell by the look on his face, and that look just cut me to the bone. So K and I both hugged him and reassured him, and he's probably forgotten the whole thing by now - but still, I felt like the worst parent ever.

And J is just so very, very TWO. Meltdowns with minimal or no provocation, constant repetition of limits that you know he understands, and the ever-present "no" (I seriously think he says "no" just to hear himself say it, not because he really means it). It's very draining. Supposedly little girls are calmer and more obedient at this age, and the trade-off is that teenage boys are generally easier to deal with. But Lord have mercy, the preschool years may kill me off first. Now I understand why one of my girlfriends was constantly riding herd on her two boys - she had to! And friends with children tell me three is worse. OY. I love my son, I'd do anything for him, I wouldn't trade him for the world, but boy howdy, being a parent sure is hard work.

This day hasn't started off so great, either. Three meltdowns from J this morning - one over turning the TV off when it was time to go, although we'd discussed several times the point at which the video would have to be turned off; one over leaving his dump truck in mama's truck, although he understands that he may lose toys if he takes them to school and is generally quite good about leaving things without a fuss; and the screaming-banshee impression at daycare drop-off. The third one really upset me. We'd been doing so well with that - J and I have talked about the fact that mama has to go to work, J gets to go to school, and mama always comes back and gets J and gives him hugs and kisses. And he's been doing really well for a while. I can't remember the last time we had a howling throwdown - a couple of whines from time to time, but not a screaming fit. Well, today we had the full-out screaming fit. As soon as we walked in, he started hanging onto my legs, saying, "mama, up, up." I told him mama had to go to work, that I'd get him some milk. He was fine when I walked away for milk, but when I came back, he started the "up, up" routine again. I told him again that mama had to go to work, but that I loved him and I'd be back this afternoon, and I started walking toward the door. I hadn't gotten halfway across the gym when I heard wailing and running feet - he'd lit out after me. *SIGH* So I turned around to give him a hug and kiss, and here went the "up, up" routine again - he glues himself to my legs and looks up at me with the most piteous expression. I hugged and kissed him and told him again that I'd be back this afternoon, and I left. The door closed on the sound of my child screaming for his mama. UGH. I wanted to sit in the car and just cry. I'm not sure why the regression, I just know that it absolutely breaks my heart to leave him like that. Damn the need to bring home a paycheck, days like that I just want to stay with my son, even if we have to live in a box under a bridge somewhere.

(Realistically I don't mean that - I know life would be very, very hard indeed if I didn't work. But some days I wish I could tell the work world to go hang and stay home with my baby boy.)

Then I had a lap-band moment on the way to work - meaning, something hung up and didn't want to go down. I'm thinking it was the huge Augmentin pills I'm trying to finish off, because I hadn't eaten very much at all. When something hangs up in the band and won't go down, it hurts - sometimes it hurts a lot, and today was one of those times. And it doesn't stop hurting unless whatever's hung up either goes down or comes back up. So here I was driving through some of the less-than-nice parts of Dallas on my way to work, hurting like a son of a bitch, and wondering if this thing would just pass or if I'd have to find some relatively safe-looking place to pull over and hurl. Mmm, fun. (That's the function of the lap-band - my own personal food police, to keep me from eating more than I should.) Finally, after about 15 minutes of pain, whatever was hung up went down, and I felt better. Now I'm starving but scared to eat, and yet the thought of a day filled with only protein shakes isn't appealing at all. Not sure yet what I'll do about that.

And then, back at work after a half day off on Friday, I find no less than 28 things in my inbox, all requiring my attention. Then there have been a couple of other crises that have popped up, so I'm running like a crazy woman. Calgon, take me away....

This day has sucked rocks so far. Can I just go home, go back to bed, and have a redo?