...that this was Leanna's weekend with her mom.
Because historically, she's here during her stepmom's (hi!) worst days.
I don't like myself like this. And I don't even have the excuse of PMS.
It wasn't really anything wrong - just every little thing was pissing me off; sometimes it happens. Right now I am typing this so I don't shout at Abby for chewing her toast too loudly. Lizzy's been at her very attention-grabbing worst (I-want-Mommy vied with I-hate-Mommy most of the weekend), and I have three papers to complete.
I'm sure that's part of it; Lizzy trying to grab attention when I'm typing homework is the same as Lizzy - or any kid - trying to grab attention when mom is on the phone.
However, the dishwasher is running, Lizzy went to bed on time (she was also looking super tired) and lunches are packed. Except for socks, we're ready to go in the morning, and I'm almost done with the first of the papers (the others aren't due until next Monday, a week from tomorrow, but I want to get them done early so I can take it easy a bit next weekend).
I think I need a day at the spa.
Or failing that, the massage place, the hairdresser, and the nail spa down the street.
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