Give me the matches

I'm throwing the following items into a burn pile, I swear:

1. Nut's winter boots. I am SO fricking sick of her wearing them at all times. My feet get stepped on, she walks all over the baby's toys, they fall off constantly, and poor Bug hasn't gotten a decent nap in days because his sister has a meltdown any time the boots aren't immediately produced and put on her feet.

2. Her footie pajamas. The adoration level is on par with the boots. I feel like all I've been washing are the stupid footies. Try to get her dressed, she flings herself to the ground. Try to put other pajamas on her at night, she runs away. I have had to hide them in her hamper because she kept digging them out the dirty laundry and trying to put them on.

3. Thomas the Tank Engine DVD's. I fucking HATE that blue train. Pardon the strong language but that was the only word I could think of to communicate how much I dislike that show. The very mention of it sends pure loathing coursing through my veins. Into the fire they go!

It seems like I've been bitching a lot lately about R. I love my little red-headed terror, don't get me wrong -that goes without saying. It's just no offense to her, but almost-2-years is a hellava lot more irritating to a mother than almost-6-months. Baby R is a prince in my eyes just for reducing his daily pooping by 70%. Three cheers for the new formula!

I had more to write, but as if to illustrate my point, Nut is rolling around on the floor fake crying because one of her boots fell off. I really need to find some baby ear plugs..... or lighter fluid.