If you ask me how my morning went I would say, ‘I was not my best self. Not even close’. And I am going to give you a little spoiler here – this post isn’t going to tell you about how I turned it around because I didn’t. There was no touchy-feely apology with Mike where we hugged it out. Nope. I have never been so thankful to drop him off at school.

Mike woke up at 4:30a and, from what I could gather from his fussing and whining, everything I did was wrong. Here are the things I did wrong:

• Cut his bagel
• Bring him strawberries and Cheerios
• Not magically making Peppa Pig appear On Demand
• Asked him to put his underwear on
• Not knowing where his Ironman Potatohead went
• Putting on the wrong Paw Patrol episode

He was just hell on wheels and I had no patience. I am so tired (in general) of telling him to be gentle and to STOP.PUTTING.STUFF.IN.MY.FACE. Helicopters, toys, fingers, feet – everything is within inches of poking my eye out. I yelled. I pointed. I handled everything wrong. And that has to be okay.

I need a timeout. I own it.  I’ll try again when he comes home from school.

And as I am editing this post I realized that I confused two texts between my cleaning lady and my oven repairman. To make a long story short, I had a cleaning crew show up when I am not even close to being picked up and my oven is still broken. It’s only 10am, so this day still has time to turn around. Right? Right.