What is going ON with this week? Seriously. Last night was fine, I guess, but it definitely could’ve been better.

And today? Today motherhood punched me in the fucking face. I do not know WHAT kind of evil has possessed my happy-go-lucky baby boy, but dear God I want it GONE. He’s like something straight out of a horror flick. I swear, any minute now his head will spin and he’ll start chanting in Latin. If it comes to that, I can’t be held accountable for my actions. I’m just sayin’.

To more accurately describe the hell I’ve been living today, let me ask you this: have you ever seen the Sharpie commercial where the mom is holding her kid and every time she tries to put him on the floor, he cries but when she picks him up he’s perfectly fine? Yeah. That’s my kid. Except picking him up only holds in the tears for a few minutes. Then he gets bored and starts fucking crying again. So I put him down. He crawls away and promptly pulls himself into a standing position, falls over, looks at me and cries. Rinse and repeat.

Oh! And another lovely gem of the day? I’m running out of diapers but trying to hold off going to the store until tomorrow because HELLO! My kid is CRANKY! This plan was going fine until I noticed a rather disgusting fact: my son has DIARRHEA. Are you fucking KIDDING me?

At least he has an excuse for his crabbiness. I MIGHT let him live.

But still.

It’s been a bad day. And there’s still three hours until bedtime.

Someone hold me. Or take my kid home for the night.

It’s Monday night, 11:25pm. I’m sitting here with my toddler who is apparently suffering from a sugar high. Someone got the great idea to buy her suckers and the idiot that I AM, I put them up on the bar within her eyesight. That was earlier.

Suddenly, a little voice in my head says hey genius, where’s the suckers? Its then that I realize, um, my daughter is playing quietly in her room. WAY too quietly. Playing a little game called “What color sucker is THIS one?” followed by the eating of the sucker.

Needless to say, we’re out of suckers.

So my daughter is awake at 11:30 at night. I don’t even care because my husband is out of town for the week YET AGAIN and dammit, I’m lonely.

At the moment, I’m amusing myself her by throwing darts at a propped up dart board. When I say propped up, I mean its sitting on the floor across the room nestled against my daughter’s tiny chair and my movie rack. I’ve hit it maybe three times. Items surrounding the board have been hit a hundred more times. I even hit my husband’s chair and it’s sitting TWO FEET in front of me. Appalling. Simply appalling.

I can’t wait to get drunk and try it out in a bar. With people mingling around the board. Should be interesting.

By the way, I am NOT the one who got the bright idea to put the dartboard on the floor. Or even in the house. I TRIED discouraging my husband when he wanted to get it because OMG it was only NINE dollars on clearance. I was all “WHERE are you going to put it? Don’t even THINK about taking any of the wall decorations down to make room for it! When are you ever going to use it? Think of the children!”

You always have to throw that last one in. Just because you can.

But we bought the damn dartboard. And three boxes of SUPER SHARP darts. These darts ain’t messing around. They mean business. My husband tried one out the first night and aimed for MY LIVING ROOM WALL. As if that didn’t piss me off, he hit one of my beloved wall decorations. There was a loud CLAANK! noise and the dart fell to the ground.

“Oh, I thought that was wood!” Um, no Einstein. You hit the ONLY metal item on the wall. And why would you aim for my wall pretties anyway?

Men.

…Psst, we’re going to ignore the fact that I just hit the aforementioned item TWICE and giggled about it. Okay? Okay.