"But I don't WANNA!" as guest blogged by my inner 2-year old...

I am in a MOOD today. Partially sleep deprivation fueled, I'll admit. The more tired I am, the more years I shave off of my age, behavior-wise. For example, when I'm a little tired, I'm very likely to find jokes a 12 year old would make funny. When I'm very tired I start to act like a 2 year old, stomping around and saying I don't wanna and being generally self-centered, contrarian and illogical. If I'm completely exhausted beyond reason, I revert to being a 3 month old and just cry til someone feeds me and/or puts me to bed. Since I got 2 chunks of 3 hours of sleep last night, I'm merely 2 today. This means pretty much nearly anything you can name, I don't wanna.
For example, I've joined a weight loss challenge. Another of my Don't Wannas is that I don't wanna have to wear only my pregnancy clothes for the next 4 years of my life. While they fit, in so far as I can squeeze my a$$ into them, they are designed to show off your lovely life-filled belly. Except that my belly is filled exclusively with ice cream sandwiches and ding dongs, so really, not something I want to call attention to. Don't REALLY have a choice however, since I can't fit into and/or find any of my other clothes. Clearly losing weight is the best thing to do, and to do that, one must exercise and cut calories - except... I don't wanna! So I stomp about and sulk every morning when I have to squeeze into my preggers pants, or my non-knocked-up shirt is tight enough to accent my backfat, bitter that I'm not losing weight while eating fried cheese sticks. Logic is not the stronghold of the toddler, clearly.
And as if this self-induced drama doesn't start my morning with a song, my next step is a visit to Chez Bebe aka the baby kennel. Frankly, handing my child over to daycare everyday in order to walk across the street to spend 8 hours doing totally uninteresting stuff, sucks. I'm sort of between projects since I'm transitioning back on, and between projects translates into 'doing wicked boring stuff '. In short, work isn't challenging or interesting or inspiring or really anything other than an annoying timesuck at the moment. And since I am running on roughly a 14 hour time deficit per day, anything that sucks my time bugs the everliving crap out of me. (Although, to be fair, in my current mood, anything, regardless of its time suckness is likely to bug the everliving crap out of me. Remember, I'm 2 and cranky.) If things were marginally more entertaining here in the office there is the outside chance of an attitude shift. But likely the only real source of a better mood lies in sleep, and lots of it.
Even writing about it makes me want to just walk out of here go across the street, snatch my child up and go home, except ... really, I don't wanna do that either!
If I go home, I need to wade through the drift of dirty socks and newspapers that has accumulated around the corners of my house, and try to avoid knocking over the giant pile of unsorted unopened mail, chockablock with unpaid bills in pink envelopes. This could all be taken care of if I just spent a little time cleaning/sorting/billpaying except, well, nobody wants to do that, regardless of how well rested they are or how much time they have on their hands. Anyone who tells you they like cleaning is off their meds. Period.
Plus, when it comes to snatching up the child, honestly? I'm a little tired of being a mommy. At least for this week. I mean, I love my child and all, and with that blind hormonal nearly deranged kinda mommylove, but I've had to be a mommy a LOT recently. Like 24 hours a day. For 3 months straight. That's a lot of non-stop mommying. While leaving the Infant at daycare is a minor heartbreak every single time, it also is a brief break from hands-on child rearing, which is kinda nice occasionally. Using that break to schedule meeting rooms for analytic tool training, however, is not improving my mood. Using it to sit beside the pool, drink something girl-y, preferably with an umbrella, and read an entertaining yet non-taxing book, however, THAT I wanna! But no such luck.
So until such time as I am able to lose weight without dieting or working out, and am able to be a mommy whenever I want and take a break whenever I need, and am able to be inspired by work every day but able to walk away to play with my infant at will, and elves come in the night to clean my house, I will likely remain in a state of toddler tantruminess. Or until I get some sleep - whichever comes first. My money is on the elves.