He's been crying/screaming since 11:30 this morning when his nap SHOULD HAVE started and it is now 2.
I am at my wit's end and want to know, at this moment, THIS MOMENT WHERE I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND, who the fuck do I call? Because really, what would they do? Nothing.
They would do nothing.
I hate being a mom.
There. I said it. I hate it, hate it, hate it.
You want to know the truth about what it's like to have a kid? THIS is it. It sucks and you hate it and you can't go back.
...after two hours and thirty six minutes...
...there is silence.
And the guilt sets in.
Horrible, demeaning, self-loathing guilt. Because you see, that's part of being a mom too.
Excuse me while I go overdose on Costco Creampuffs. Because when he wakes up (and let's be clear here...there's no guarantee that he will sleep for a long time nor is there a promise that no matter how long he does or doesn't sleep he will actually wake up happy) I will need to be prepared to love him as fiercely as ever.