I love my son... but...

Tonight has been melt-down city since I got home.

I went to the grocery store, and dropped almost $100 with only 3 small bags. I went for 5 things and walked out with the small bags. I got home, the roads suck, we are dealing with snow and slipper roads. My 15 minute drive from work to home took me almost a 1/2 hour. And then there was the grocery store... Anyway, I got home.

My son brought in 2 bags and I had the rest of the shit. I can only carry so much, including locking the car and closing the garage door. I ran out of fingers to carry, so I put the 5lb bag of grapefruit in my purse, as I was NOT going to make another trip. I got to the house and my son is in the kitchen and my hands are full. I put something down to open the door and half-way open he yells at me because I didn't let him open the door.

Then it was just a variety of issues rolling downhill. I asked him to put something away, he snapped and said "I will". I turned away. He then wouldn't move when I opened the fridge, so my fingers got pinched. He then apologized for pinching my fingers. Then I dropped a piece of meat on the floor, he apologized.

This kid is sweet, but I could fall off a cliff, 400 miles from him, and he would be the one apologizing it happened. That absolutely drives me nuts!

Then if I don't answer him in the correct tone of voice, so he thinks I'm mad or upset. If I talk loud, he tells me I'm yelling. Then his voice increases.

I love my child to death... but he might be the death of one of us by the time this is over.

Today he had no school, finals are over, he was up and under my feet at 5am (in my serenity space I crave in the morning) and then my mom got up. Let's add to it that, since it was cold and snowing, I don't think either of them got dressed or went outside. My parking spot, in the driveway, was still full of snow. My mom and son have been stranded together, in one house, all day... and that never means anything good will come out of it. That just adds to the stress and pain.

I left for work 20 minutes earlier than usual. And mind you, I already leave home an hour before my day starts (flash back to my statement that my commute is 15 minutes). I get my "me" time. No one looks for me at work that early, I don't have to answer phones. I take the time to group, regroup, and ease my way into my day. No one else in the department shows up for another hour after I start.

I love my son to death and wouldn't trade him for the world... except maybe this morning... and maybe tonight... I love him when he is sleeping (does that count?) I think I need a glass of wine... and some ear plugs.