Defeated.

Yesterday was not one of my best days of motherhood. Timmy woke up early, well before the sun rose, and appeared to regret his insistence of being sprung from his crib almost immediately. He was grumpy and difficult to comfort for two hours until he finally fell asleep (probably due to exhaustion.)  By the time he  fell asleep I had consumed two cups of coffee, jolting me awake. My going back to sleep was not going to be a viable option, so I opened up my computer and began to work.

By the time Scott left for work I already had nearly 4 hours of work under my belt for the day. It's a good thing that I was so productive early in the morning, because Timmy was a little ball of need and want all day. From the food that I provided to the way that I tried to hold and soothe him, apparently I could do nothing right. Needless to say, it was a rough day.

To add another layer of dissatisfaction to the day, my phantom ankle was aching all day. It felt like I needed to crack the joint, which was obviously not possible because it is missing. I hate those phantom sensations. It wasn't enough pain to force me to take medication, but it was just enough discomfort to be annoying and tiring. I'm sure that the rain contributed to the issue, but knowing the cause did nothing to diminish the annoyance.

By the time Scott came from from work I was treading on my last frayed nerve. I would like to think that I said hello before I handed him a red faced bundle of discontent, but to be honest I am not certain.  I just passed him off and ran straight to the bathroom.

I locked the door, took a deep breath and polished off the last of my stashed chocolate treats. Yesterday, I was defeated by an 11 month old.