The Witching Hour

As I lay awake in bed, knowing full well I should be asleep for I will need to get up in the night, I can't help but think what an awful mom I am. I can always tell when it gets to 5 o'clock, Matt turns into the devil and my head starts to spin around. It seem that by 5 I can no longer stand my kids. Matt is just more articulate about his demands, not that Seth isn't vocal.

I have spent the whole day listening to the weird and loud noises Matt makes, and the demands of "look at this", "I want that", and "I just" need to do exactly the opposite of what you are asking me to do. That kid has so much energy he literally bounces off the walls. Shoot I bet he vibrates just sitting still. I have come to think of him like a puppy. Give him lots of love and affection, lots of exercise (on walks he even has to stop and touch everything), feed regularly and watch for signs he need to relieve himself.
Seth is hot on his heals as fare as demands go, he is just too small yet to know any better. Poor kid gets put on hold a lot and he has learned how to scream about it.

By 5 in the evening I am trying to get dinner going so it will be ready when Rob gets home (I am trying to get better at cooking), Matt is wound tighter than a snare drum and Seth is getting hungry again. I feel my patience flying out the window, my kids know it and go in for the kill. I find myself yelling way too much and hating myself for doing it. I know that if I can make it through the witching hour I am in the home stretch till bed time and it will all start again tomorrow.

I am determined to survive parenting one witching hour at a time.