Serenity destruction

I had a great day yesterday, largely because it started off on the water in a 4- with 3 other guys who really know what they're doing. These guys are all technically so good that they can hammer away at full pressure and keep the boat moving smooth as silk. It's fun to pull hard and go fast.

I got major errand stuff done, and even baked peanut butter cookies last night, which came out perfectly.

And then I went to bed. And around 11:30, the brat had a meltdown.

I'm trying very hard to cultivate a more tolerant, empathic understanding of the people around me. Gentleness and compassion. It's working for me.

But when awakened by a shrieking toddler from sound slumber, my Zen goes out the window.

My first words: "Kill him"

I get so angry. It's not just a "phase". The kid is totally acting out in flamboyant fashion because he's got emotional issues with his parents' divorce. The kid is choosing to do this. And mom coddles the shit out of him. In this case "coddles the shit out of" means "refrains from gagging him with duct tape and depositing him in the clothes dryer".

I am, by some respects, a light sleeper. I wake up fast and quickly. I can also go back to sleep quickly.

So by the time the drama queen finished oscillating into and out of full on tantrum once more, from 2:45 am until 3:15, I was far from peaceful. Cycling between "just got to sleep" and "jarred into consciousness by blood curdling wailing" for a half hour doesn't make you feel very centered.

I tried empathy, but what the fuck is there to have a fit about at 3 o'clock in the fucking morning? You want a fucking toy? No. You want to see mommy? Ok, you see mommy, now lights out, brat.

I'm tempted to leave a brat-sized bark collar on the doorstep.

"WaaaaAA - Zzzt!"

Like the melodious sound of mosquitoes being incinerated in the summer.