Awash in self-loathing

I can't stop screaming. At Miss M.

It makes me so sad and so frustrated.

What's worse is that she actually responds to the yelling Ema instead of the rational, even-tempered "Please close the top of the water bottle; it's spilling all over you and the carseat" Ema.

I wish I had an explanation. Is it the heat? General crankiness and stress? Sleep deprivation? The fact that I got out of bed at 5:45 this morning (and just about every morning) to sit with her in the living room and explain that as long as she was screaming, we couldn't nurse in bed because she was going to wake Baby AM and Abba. (For the record, Taxman and I alternate doing that.)

Whatever it is, I hate myself for it. I was out running errands today and was a third of the way to Taxman's office; I almost drove the rest of the way there to beg him to take Miss M from me. She shouldn't have to be with the screeching insane bitch. I sure don't want to be.

Excuse me, there is a pound of Trader Joe's milk chocolate covered raisins that needs my attention.