Three AM

Three in the morning is my new insomnia wake up time. Oh, how I wish it was plain insomnia.

The Boy's energy today was intense and followed by a decent sized meltdown that was caused by his dad yelling at him (Twig wiped his dirty hands on Woods pants instead of his napkin - which was probably supposed to be funny) and ended in a spanking to bring him back to reality (instead of chasing me down to hit, kick and punch me for trying to break it up) and me telling my husband, essentially, that it was his fault for behaving like a 7 year old his damned self and Twig was reacting with equal force so please act like a grown up instead of a third Fucking child that I have to parent already...

Not only awake, I'm agitated, too. And in a big way.

Facebook and all the pretty pictures of people going to Disneyland and loving life sure doesn't help. Makes me feel like I'm doing it all wrong. Not fun enough. Not active enough. Not happy enough.

Simplification ain't going as well as I'd hoped, either. Too many things to do, not enough hours in the day.

Failure feelings at 3am. Just Fucking ducky.