It started REALLY early again too.  Like, ten after five.

I’m trying to give Sweet Hubby a break and let him sleep, so it’s been just me and Hurricane Owen for a few hours already. 

I’m on the third load of laundry, there’s already a giant corned beef brisket in the slow cooker, and a whole layer of crud has already been cleared.  I’ve had my second cup of coffee while chatting about current events with a three year old who just looks at me like I’ve grown another head no matter what I say, and all is right with the world.

As right as it can be with Hurricane Owen in the house.

Beelzebaby is back.  Two wasn’t so bad.  So far, I’m not crazy about three.

Preschoolers seem to be a lot like teenagers when it comes to contrariness.   So far the only difference seems to be that, for the moment, I’m still bigger than he is.  My little teenager has been sleeping in his sleeping bag on his bedroom floor for days.  No reason, he just likes to be difficult.  Now observe, as he tells the daycare staff that he sleeps on a bare floor every night, and chuckle when the social workers show up.  Same when he tells them he’s eaten nothing but marshmallows and goldfish crackers for days.  Not for lack of trying on our part, but I’m beginning to wonder just how long it is possible to sustain life on that kind of diet.

We won’t talk about getting dressed, brushing teeth, using the potty etc. 

We’ve had MANY battles this week about why Mommy isn’t ALLOWED to let him drive the car, even if I wanted to.  He retaliated by stripping naked while strapped into his car seat, so that I had a shivering, naked ape to deal with on Wed. when we got home from school.

Cue social workers.

Otherwise, things haven’t been too bad.  Company coming today.  (Ok, closer to family) We’ll see how Hurricane Owen decides to play things.

Stay tuned.