At each others’ throats

The boys and I are all herky-jerky at the moment, one minute having a good time, and the next minute somebody’s extremely ticked off with somebody else. Something in the air, perhaps. Well, for Sam and me, anyway; Gabe’s reason for being irritable became abundantly clear a few hours ago, when, about fifteen minutes before he was to be at his playground program, he passed out cold in his bed.

I did try to wake him, since I know he’s going to be irate at having missed playground, but all I got was a fluttering of eyelashes and a muttered “Sleeeeep…” Hopefully, he’ll feel a little more friendly upon awakening; I’m getting really sick of the fraternal brawling taking place every time I turn my back for a moment (and sometimes in plain sight, all care about consequences tossed aside).

Sam might be overtired, too, but he’s far more stubborn about any efforts to assist in those lines. If he doesn’t want to sleep, he won’t, no matter what I try. I think, too, he’s got some hormonal stuff going on, because he’s going back to the whole “I’m so stupid, and I hate myself” pendulum swings that we had a while ago. Man, I hoped we were done with that! Nothing seemed to help last time; he just stopped the refrain one day. Hate when history repeats itself like this.

And here’s me, the “fixer” with no good solutions. Makes for a cranky Carrie, it does.

Oh, crap; Gabe just woke up, and, well…

Good times.