Whatever is causing the Joan Collins 'tude, deal with it. Embrace the pain, spank your inner moppet, whatever, but get over it.

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What a day.

I mentioned before that I thought my difficulties with Bean might be related to PMS ... well, this week - yesterday, especially - is adding weight to my theory. I just had no patience or tolerance with her. Last week she threw stuff at me, kicked me and pulled my hair and I was like a Zen Master. Yesterday she was just being a pain-in-the-butt kid and I could have throttled her like a kazillion times. My fuse was about this long: ' and it was all used up by about 6:15 a.m. Even knowing I was being an unreasonable beotch with her didn't help stem the tide. I think I need to have my hormone levels checked.

I should be writing cover letters, but I can't get my brain into it. They seem like such a superfluous, archaic formality anymore. These days you send your resume with the click of a mouse, and it goes into the void of the Interwebz and you rarely even receive a note letting you know your resume was received. I'm going to a resume workshop today, so I'll be sure to ask how necessary the things are anymore, although I know I'll still include one even if the response is "not very". I tend to kick it pretty old school on this stuff (case in point, I even bought heavyweight resume paper for the grand total of zero printed and mailed resumes I've submitted).

Speaking of that paper, I should probably print a couple "nice" copies to take with me in case there's a networking opportunity today. I'm thinking of having business cards made, too, just with my name and contact info and the generic 'writer' as a job title. I just hate the whole networking-with-a-piece-of-paper thing ... looks so cheesy. So even though I don't have a 'real job', a card would just be so much more professional.

Miss O has a Gymboree trial class today ... I doubt I'll be impressed enough in one class to justify the expense, but I feel bad that she doesn't have all the opportunities that Bean did. A big piece of it is the whole "I'm single and broke" thing, but part of it is that second-class citizenry that second (and subsequent) children just seem destined to inhabit. They have a small stretch of bonus point time when they are 'the baby', but once they reach toddlerhood, they're wearing hand-me-downs and their toys are just whatever the older kid has that seems least likely to be eaten and choked on. So you do all the fluffy extracurricular stuff with kid #1, but for some reason you do less, if any, with kid #2. Like their sad little half-completed baby books, their social lives are kind of an afterthought ...

Said afterthought is hovering around my chair, mooching bits of chocolate chocolate chip muffin while I multi-task. I'll give a big shout-out for Costco muffins because they totally rock. Miss O concurs, but you'll have to take my word for it as it sounds more like "ticka-ticka-ticka-hooo-hooo-mmmmm" than it does "I concur; these muffins are divine."

Thankfully, it's a school day, and I'm even getting a Miss O break when I attend the resume workshop, so it's possible that my cantankerous and ornery self won't be so cranky with Bean. Although the craptastic nights' sleep I had makes it extra good it's a school day. Miss O was up for awhile at 3 a.m. ... she'd nurse down, seem like she was going to conk out, and then pop back up. At some point, I found myself lying next to Miss I with Miss O sprawled perpendicular to us and still latched on. I had and have no recall of getting us there.

In the middle of the night, when I'm all discomboobulated and cranky, the notion of just putting her in a crib and letting her cry it out has so much appeal. In the harsh light of day, though, I know I'd never really do it. It just isn't my style. I figure she has to outgrow the frequent waking and nighttime nursing at some point, because Bast knows I'm not shacking up with her when she goes off to college!
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