The sun will come out tomorrow

Today was kind of rough all day long, starting at about 3:00 this morning when the thunder storms woke me up. I lay awake for the next couple of hours trying to ignore the rumbling outside long enough to fall back asleep. I think I finally drifted off again sometime just after 5. And wouldn't you know it--Perrin woke up calling "Mama! Mama!" at about 5:30. Ugh. For those of you who don't know me very well, I do not cope well if I don't get my beauty rest. And I had plenty to cope with today.

For starters, I realized my favorite pair of jeans has a gaping hole in the back pocket. Who knows how long I've been advertising my underwear through that hole. To make matters worse, Perrin was kind of a brat today. I gave him milk this morning--he threw a fit. I tried to go to the bathroom alone--he threw a fit. I tossed his toothbrush in the trash after he dipped it in toilet water--he threw a fit. I wouldn't let him eat the year-old charred bits of who knows what that have settled into the bottom of our toaster oven--you guessed it, he threw a fit. He went down for a nap around lunch time (thank you, thank you, Jesus! Freedom!) but only slept for an hour. One measly hour. Which means I didn't have time to get all my work done that I needed to do. To top it all off, I had a fiasco with my twice-baked potatoes this evening. I don't want to get into it, but let's just say there are half-cooked chunks of potato ALL OVER the kitchen. I'm not kidding.

Thank goodness Trey came home when he did--I was about to throw a fit on the kitchen floor right along with Perrin (who was mad at me this time because I was cooking instead of playing with him and his piggy bank). We ate dinner, then Trey ran a bath for me and picked out an assortment of bubbles and bath salts for me to choose from. He even hooked my iPod up to a speaker and brought it into the bathroom for me. I took a long, steamy bath while the boys went to Walmart. ::Bliss::

Funny how the world can seem much cheerier after a few minutes of alone time and a relaxing bubble bath. And Trey even promised to do the dishes for me tonight after Perrin goes to bed. Now if I can just convince him to clean up those stupid potatoes too.

I want to end on a happy note, so I'm going to list some things I'm thankful for:
1. My dear, sweet husband who isn't feeling well but could sense that I was at my breaking point and has allowed me to be selfish and whiny tonight
2. My sweet baby boy who is a royal pain in the rear but is also the absolute joy of my heart
3. Tomorrow is a new day. And I have new jeans and no plans to come within ten feet of a potato.

Childhood innocence? Hardly...

William Blake is famous for his Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience poetry. To give a simplified explanation of his views, I'd say that he believes children are born innocent, then life happens and they grow into experienced (and often bitter, cynical, jaded, corrupt) adults.

Blake is a gifted writer, but there's one thing I strongly disagree with him about (actually, there are several things, but we won't go into all of them right now). Children are so NOT innocent. They're little heathens. And my little sinner is already showing me evidence of the selfish human nature he was born with.

Today, for example, Perrin scooted himself across the floor and found my laptop power cord. He reached out for it to take a little taste, and I grabbed it away from him and said firmly, "No." We did this about five times, and when Perrin realized I really wasn't going to change my mind, he flopped on his back, threw his arms and legs out, and screamed as if I'd shot him with an arrow or something. (On a side note, I didn't think I'd have to deal with temper tantrums until he was at least two or so... I guess we're getting an early start. ::sigh::)

I know some people would say, "But he's just a baby; it's not like he knows that he's doing something wrong." That's sort of true. But he knew he wanted to eat the power cord. He knew I didn't want to let him eat the power cord. And he threw a fit because he didn't get his way. Does that sound innocent? I don't think so. Granted, in the grand scheme of things, it's not a big deal. But it's interesting to see that a baby who can't even walk or talk or feed himself can still exert his self-will.

I love my little sinner. He's cute and smart and wonderful. But he's not innocent.