Tiny is in a whirlwind of tantrums. It's not that she's themed herself for Halloween, it's just that she's in the mood to be feral. Really, really feral.
It's. Zapping. My. Will. To. Live.
I feel treacherous and like a big traitor, but I have to tell you, I can't cope with the constancy of the curdling screams.
And if I say something a little terse to her, she instantly cries "Daddy, daddy", or vice versa. It's doing my head in.
I need a lobotomy or a bottle in front of me.
If only someone could tell me how long this is going to last because it feels like it's going to be forever and it's playing with me.
I think it's the sleep deprivation coupled with acute (not cute) feralness. She comes into our bed around 2am, and I am so tired I just can't take her back, and have fallen into an ugly rut of bad sleep. It's messing with me. I'm in a really bad mood. I don't want to hang tough with anyone. In the words of Greta Garbo - I want to be alone.
I don't know where that image is from. Too tired. Sorry.