Last night my parents called at the absolute worst time ever. We were all concerned because Ethan hadn't pooped in 4 days and I was rustling through my papers and trying to figure out who to call and I was annoyed at Ethan who didn't even seem to be trying.... and then my mom and dad called and I know it was a terrible conversation and I probably snarled at them.
I topped off the bad daughter routine with a psycho Mommy routine this morning, forever cementing me as the "least able to deal with things woman ever!" winner. Thankfully, we had decided and done major car-juggling so that I could drive Ethan to school, so I got to drop him off this afternoon and Vivian and I got to go to the grocery store AND Goodwill and we were happy and felt rewarded.
Ethan also refused to be friendly with his grandparents tonight on Skype and started hitting Vivian again, but we actually see that now as a good thing, since it means he's recovering. It's all about frames of reference, people.
I need a vacation.