Tonight my children were awful.
According to Lincoln, I was the wrong parent to pick him up at the sitter's house. And he kicked and screamed and cried. For an overly-long period of time.
According to Elaina, it was her job to challenge and then defy all parental authority And after a fit of crying as if I had squeezed her toes off of her, she apologized and went to sleep within minutes of laying in her bed.
I hate nights like these. Drained. Fried. Zapped. The now-equivalant of me.
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