In which she eats humble pie

I'm having a motherhood meltdown, y'all.

And I'm about to whine and cry like a big fat baby, so feel free to bail right now if you need to.

I can't presently string two sentences together to make sense, so I'm just fixin' to start typing, and if you can make sense of it, great. If you can't, well then Welcome To My World.

I'm about to be done in by a four-year-old angel, people.
She's gorgeous.
She's friendly.
Her smile lights up the room.
She gets cranky when she's tired.
But she hates naps.
And she's a light sleeper.
She plays in bed for hours every night.
It's getting worse as she gets older.
She used to be a morning person.
But the fatigue is changing her.
And also changing me.

Cause see, Scooter isn't a bad girl.
But she has an attention span of about 15 seconds.
So if I give her a direction, she obeys.
For 15 seconds.
Then all bets are off.
I'm so tired of correcting and redirecting half the day.
I feel like the meanest old mother.
But the alternative is being the mother with the crazy, disobedient kid.

And here's where I eat the humble pie.
I may have seemed smug about my sweet, partially obedient children.
I may have believed that if I did it right, my girls would obey me.
For longer than 15 seconds.
But this one doesn't.
And I really don't know what to do next.

Oh, and p.s., I just twisted my ankle in the dadgum bathroom because I left clothes laying in the floor.
My fault.
Still hurts.