Deep in the Jungle of Peachtree City

My children are driving me crazy.

First, my daughter's pediatrician told me that she would sleep for a LONG time today due to the Tylenol and shots. She slept all of 45 minutes. Hooray.

Secondly, my son has a serious attitude problem today. He's like this grouchy old man trapped in the body of a six-year-old.

My daughter is in a bad mood because of the shots, and he's in a bad mood because of...??? Who knows? Since I've brought him home from school, they have fought non-stop.

He keeps holding her back from his toys...those precious toys that he doesn't even realize exist until she touches them. Then, he had the nerve to bring this Fisher-Price zoo set-up into HER room and told her she was "bad" for wanting to play with it. After that, he took the toys back into his room. When he kept her from playing with them there (keep in mind these are baby toys!), I honestly watched her stand up and jump on him while he was sitting down. Then, she bit into his back and held on! I had to pull her off and take her away. It's like watching "Wild Kingdom" around here. I don't know if I should give them time-outs or throw raw meat at them. Anyway...

I took her down the hall to the playroom and locked the door (with me inside, of course). If I didn't lock the door, then she would get out, try to play with the things he normally doesn't acknowledge, and he would get mad. So, as soon as I lock her into the playroom with me, he pounds on the door, "Let me in or I'm breaking this door down." No drama there.

Fine. I open the door. He checks on his toys in the playroom. "Don't let her in here, she touches my things." I try to tell him that it's her playroom, too, but, of course, that answer doesn't sit well with him.

So, while he's trying to argue with me, she goes bobbing down the hallway and into his room. He rushes in, gets mad, and tries to pull her back. I grab her, go back to the playroom, and...well...the whole scenario repeat a couple of times.

Finally, I decide to try and put her down for a nap again, and make him have yet another time-out. I hear them both talking to themselves in their rooms.

54 minutes until my husband gets home...54 minutes...