if not here then where?!?

i realize i come here often when there is nobody else who will let me punch them in the face and i need some sort of outlet, or thing to take it out on. Internet, i'm sorry, but in my imagination you have a giant red bulls eye painted in the middle of the monitor and it's just a bruising for a cruising.

oh conrad. oh tuesday. oh fcking shitty of a tuesday with conrad.

and really, even before conrad opened his can of whoop ass and utter defiance on me, i had this sour milk in my mouth taste making me gauge over the kitchen sink taste as i tried to clean out the sippy cup from whence it came from and in doing so shot a ginormous projectile of dish soap across the kitchen, that had me wondering what sort of day i might be in for. of course, i had that premonition thanks to the sour milk i drank and the uncontrollable desire to throw up because of it which lead to the violent scrubbing out of the sippy cup and the dish soap that went flying across the room. typically, not a good sign all is going to go smoothly for the rest of the day. and it hasn't.

back to conrad.

there are weeks my son is perfect. i mean PERFECT. like a little angel that floated down from heaven on a cloud made of puffed sugar strumming a harp that massages you as you hear it. and then there are weeks he redefines the TERRIBLE in terrible twos. this dichotomy of character is puzzling to me, and even worse, everytime we go through it i am completely thrown off because it seems to come out of no where and i have just gotten use to the perfect little being, previously known as, conrad.

today was such a day, though with yesterday indicating such a storm was brewing. still, i wasn't prepared. i know it's a battle of wills i have to win, and once i do, things will subside; i won't look and sound like That Mean Mother when we're at the Children's Festival in Jacksonville and conrad doesn't want to hold my hand and i am gripping his little wrist pulling on him to get off the ground scowling, "one more time, you can either WALK HOLDING MY HAND or mommy can carry you. which one do you want to do? PICK!"

neither will we have to leave early from the park because somebody won't stop biting me when i'm instructing him on what's civilized and what's not.

yes, after i win this battle for a temporary period of time, our days will be back to frolicking in the soft grass at the park, swimming happily in the cool pool, and dancing like monkeys to music.

today, however, i'm wishing for a stiff drink and a babysitter and a innocent bystander to clothesline.